Curious
by HeathenVampires
Summary: AU. Vlad can't help but be fascinated by the girl at school, the one who doesn't smell right and who seems to be exhibiting familiar signs... dimidius!Ingrid fullvampire!Vlad Vlad/Ingrid (warning for future incest)
1. Chapter 1

**I couldn't not write Ingrid as her usual goth self, but I thought this AU would be fun!**

 **(Also, my 150th publish here on FF!)**

 **Dimidius!Ingrid and fullvampire!Vlad. Shifted their ages to a year apart.**

-YD-

Vlad watched her. He couldn't help it. She intrigued him. Smelled different to the other breathers, beneath that perfume that almost completely masked her natural, unusual scent. One year above him, with a little brother George who was the absolute opposite of her - quiet, bookish, obsessed with Latin. Ingrid was uncommonly good at pretty much everything, even while appearing to make no effort whatsoever in her work.

He wasn't the only one who looked at Ingrid. With those high cheekbones and the contrast of dark brown hair against her pale skin, those big bright eyes... she certainly had the eye of many a boy at Stokely Grammar. Not even the garlic-awful uniform could detract from her allure.

And that was why he watched her. Vampires drew in humans, with their hypnosis if they had to, but largely with pheremones that subtly beckoned a breather closer. So how did this Ingrid girl have that sort of effect on him? It wasn't because Vlad had a thing for goths, that much was obvious. Even as an actual vampire, bonafide member of the living dead club, Vlad wasn't thrilled about it and most things that reminded him of vampirism, or vampires in general, was not an appealing prospect.

And yet...

There Ingrid was, in all her gothic glory, fascinating him entirely. What was _that_ all about?

"Move it Count, you got no chance."

"And you think you do Wilson?"

Running a hand through his excessively gelled hair, Wilson sneered with his visibly chipped tooth from rugby, the yellow staining of a high sugar diet (Vlad could smell it pumping through his blood) combined with the poor oral hygiene that meant Vlad could smell his breath from over a foot away quite clearly - and unpleasantly.

"Damn right I do."

"By all means. I can't wait to see you shot down."

 _Torn_ down was probably a more apt description for the ruthless way Ingrid destroyed the hopeful teenager, then sent him away like a frightened puppy. Actually, Vlad would have more sympathy for a frightened puppy. Ingrid huffed, resumed touching up her makeup in her compact mirror. Everyone else was too busy laughing at Wilson to see it, but Vlad's curiousity was piqued by the way Ingrid stared at her reflection. That action alone wasn't unusual, but the way she blinked, squinted at it like it had done something unusual was _very_ familiar and distinct to him.

He wondered...

Reaching for some paper from a notebook, Vlad scribbled out a few words, scrunched up the paper, then tossed it at Ingrid. She glared at him like she hoped he'd spontaneously explode into dust there and then, but she picked up the paper and unfurled it. Vlad saw her frown deepen, but Ingrid didn't respond to the note. Wondering if perhaps he'd imagined it, he got on with his day, opting to go and sit outside in the stands by the sports pitch for some sunlight basking while he still could; the mix of impending vampirism and living in Wales now meant very limited amounts of UV were in his future.

Almost at the end of his free period and mostly through his English homework, Vlad looked up as a shadow fell across his work. Ingrid dropped his crumpled note on top of his work, looking at him expectantly.

"Yes?"

"What did you mean by this?"

Vlad's blase attitude hid a confusion; yes, Ingrid was graceful, far more so than her peers, but his developing senses ought to have picked up her approach. He looked down at the paper, with just the words ' _did it move_ ' scrawled across it messily.

"Nothing. Why? What did you think it meant?"

He was wary of just admitting his reflection moved sometimes, that Vlad remembered that first occurrence when his own face _winked_ back at him. Besides which, Ingrid didn't smell like a vampire. She didn't smell like the average human either, but she certainly didn't smell like one who was soon-to-be-dead. It was why he'd been watching her, why he had even noticed her confusion at her reflection to begin with. Ingrid would have to give him something before he returned the favour here. In terms of information, anyway.

"Nothing."

She turned on her heel, preparing to stalk away. Vlad shoved the note in his pocket, picked up his pen again. Ingrid turned back, frowning.

"Does it happen to you?"

"Sometimes."

After that, Ingrid left. Vlad was perplexed by her sudden departure, but what was he going to do? Chase after her and ask why she had a symptom of pubescent vampires? She'd just cut his heart out and stare at it like it was mildly interesting. Then throw it on a fire. Ingrid had no patience for any other human, sans perhaps her little brother. Vlad suspected Ingrid was nicer to George at home, not wanting he and his 'geek' friends hanging around her at school.

Vlad left rugby practice that afternoon - mostly a rebellion to annoy his father, Count Dracula - and found Ingrid still there, leant against the wall of the front gate, eyeing him oddly.

"Can I help you? I should warn you, another dozen rugby players will be along any minute."

"Walk with me."

Curious, Vlad obeyed. Stokely Castle loomed over them from the top of the hill, a fair walk away on tired legs but he was confused by Ingrid's silent presence. She wasn't looking at him, but he felt undoubtedly watched.

"Why did you ask if it moved? What does it mean?"

"Any number of things. Hallucinations. Sleep deprivation. Trick of the light. Mental breakdown."

"Don't be an idiot. Difficult, I assume, since you're a teenage boy."

Vlad bit back a retort about how _she_ had approached _him_ about this, rolled his eyes while she wasn't looking and yet felt very much like she knew he'd done it regardless.

"You know something."

"I know many things. Most of which you would think impossible."

For the first time in all the months he'd attended Stokely Grammar, Vlad felt like he was the source of interest for Ingrid rather than the other way around.

"Try me."

Vlad looked around, saw they were past the majority of population density, lessening the chance of being overheard talking what most would consider complete and utter nonsense.

"I come from Transylvania. I live in a spooky old castle. My dad wears a cape."

"So your family is weird, what does that have to do with me?"

This girl was in to goth culture, so Vlad was completely certain she was being deliberately obtuse rather than she had no idea about vampires.

"Well, I think you might be weird too. Half weird, anyway."

"Excuse me?"

They were at the bottom of the hill now - there was nothing but grass and a steep climb for several metres in every direction now.

"Let me ask you something. You're what, fifteen now? A few months off of sixteen?"

"So what if I am?"

Vlad took that as a yes.

"Sometimes weird stuff happens to you. Sometimes a hunk of uncooked meat looks delicious. You can see someones pulse beat against their neck. Certain people smell amazing while others are disgusting. Now and then, you're suddenly much stronger than usual. When you get angry, something rattles. Your teeth **hurt.** The sun seems a little brighter than it used to."

Every single thing hit its mark - Ingrid's silver-blue eyes grew wider and wider. Vlad was surprised, to be honest. Ingrid clearly wasn't a vampire; he'd be able to smell it on her. But then, she'd never smelled like breather either.

He'd thought them a myth. A horror story to warn him from trying to mingle with humans rather than see them as food. No way were they possible.

 _Dimidius._

A half-human, half-vampire hybrid.

"You're insane."

Ingrid turned, stalked off. Vlad called after her.

"Once you turn sixteen, you won't be able to ignore it!"

She halted for half a heart-beat, but continued on. Vlad shrugged to himself, then headed up to the castle to change and study for his Blood Tests. Actually... that was a curious thought. Did Blood Test limitations apply to a dimidius? How would Ingrid transform? Clearly, she didn't know who sired the vampire in her genes, and to Vlad's knowledge a transformation needed a Blood Mirror.

Under guise of actually studying - much to the delight of his father, Count Dracula - Vlad scoured the textbooks for any information on Dimidius. There was precious little, probably intentional so vampires didn't get any ideas about what was quite the heinous crime. 'Mating with your dinner' was a rather crude way that one textbook described it.

"What in the name of all that is evil are you reading that drivel for?"

"Curiosity. Thought it might explain why I'm not really that hot on turning into a biter."

Vlad winced as the predictable explosion of indignation and anger swept through the castle, but the diversion had worked as his father stormed off, thunder crackling outside.

Ingrid was sixteen in a few months. Whatever happened, he'd find out soon enough.

-YD-

 **Yes, they are still half-siblings, and yes, there will be smut!**


	2. Chapter 2

**If this is late, I apologise. I should never have started a new story when I'm still trying to finish others, but I needed my OTP.**

-YD-

It took longer than Vlad expected for Ingrid to succumb to the need to _know._ He found the process confusing and disconcerting at times, and that was with the innate understanding he was going to turn into a vampire. That stage of uncertainty Ingrid was in must have been much worse.

She turned up rather out of the blue, accosting Vlad while he was studying quietly in the library for a Maths test that his father had, naturally, dismissed as completely irrelevant and kept setting fire to Vlad's textbooks at home. So the library was his only real spot to swot up, since studying at Robin's house was out - the other boy was more interested in bat documentaries or video games.

"What's happening to me?"

Vlad looked up, saw she was wearing sunglasses. Inside. It wasn't particularly bright outside, unless you were a transformed vampire. Which Ingrid was not. Not yet, anyway. He raised an eyebrow, and she lowered the shades to display her eyes were flickering red, pupils blown.

"I can't explain it here. I have books at home that I can get for you?"

Ingrid looked _scared._ It was well hidden, but it was definitely there. Vlad wasn't cruel enough to taunt her when she clearly needed help. She nodded, pushing her sunglasses up and managing an impressive appearance of casual impatience as she crossed her arms, waiting for Vlad to put his books away. The librarian watched them leave in surprise - Vlad wasn't surprised at her surprise. Ingrid didn't tend to let anyone walk alongside her. Most people were honoured just to be allowed to walk _behind_ her.

"I'm sixteen in two months. What... what did you mean?"

Vlad rubbed at his temple, wondering how he was supposed to explain this to someone who was scared, confused and until very recently, certain of herself being one hundred percent human.

"I'll explain later."

The walk to the castle was harder and heavier than it usually seemed; Vlad was about to turn this teenage girls life on its head, and she'd never be the same again. She seemed to know it too, reluctance evident in her posture as they climbed the hill. Vlad bade her to wait a second, peering around the first rooms of the castle to check that his father hadn't suddenly become a day bird. The main rooms were empty, and Renfield could be heard clanging around in the alchemy lab downstairs. Vlad put a chair in front of that door, then went and beckoned Ingrid inside.

"Be quiet, my dad is asleep."

"At four thirty in the... oh."

Ingrid was definitely working it out. Vlad led her to the book corner, hands roaming the shelves to search for books on transformation. Even as he did so, Vlad was still plagued with uncertainty.

"You need to find out about whichever parent isn't your biological one."

Without her family's Blood Mirror, Ingrid surely couldn't transform. Not fully, anyway.

"Why?"

"You just do. Here. These three have stuff you should know. I wouldn't let anyone find those. Not if you like life outside of an insane asylum."

"Don't be so dramatic."

Ingrid put the books in her bag, glancing around the castle with a hint of disdain on her face. Yeah, the whole place could do with a good dusting and airing out. A sweep and tidy up wouldn't go amiss either, but Vlad didn't spend much time in the living room, Renfield _added_ dirt and dust and his dad wouldn't clean if his unlife depended on it.

"You better go. If you need to talk, you know where to find me."

It was so strange; this girl hadn't acknowledged his existence before the incident with her mirror, but now here he was extending almost-friendship to her. Not that he expected Ingrid to take it. She was only begrudgingly accepting his help _now_ because she had no other choice if she wanted to know what it was that was changing her. Ingrid left, taking off with a clear purpose to get the heck away from Vlad and the castle. Probably mostly Vlad though. Just in case anyone saw them together and rumours ran rife...

Oh, Vlad wouldn't mind if those sorts of rumours were true, naturally, but halfling or not, Ingrid would always be out of his league. Still, he was hardly going to refuse to help her because Ingrid wouldn't normally give him the time of day... appealing as the idea was to the petty vampire voice in his mind. Shushing it, Vlad headed up to his room, changing out of his uniform to study for his Blood Tests. He still had over a year to go before the Mirror would beckon him, but he did get the odd pain in his teeth, and he'd always been able to smell blood, hear heartbeats, sense fear.

Ingrid stayed away for several days, but the sunglasses became part of her ensemble. If they weren't on her face, they were hung from the dress she wore under the actual uniform shirt. She seemed to know when her eyes might flicker, and eventually she sought Vlad again.

"How long does this go on for?"

"It depends. It's usually linked to emotions, so if you're angry or upset it's more likely to happen, but this close to your birthday things will come and go."

It was very odd, talking to her in the playground at lunch while Robin was chasing his brothers, who had stolen his lunchbox. She looked around, as though daring anyone to be listening in, then looked back to Vlad.

"It was my father. Mum doesn't know much. Alcohol and a music festival when she was eighteen."

"My mum ran off with a werewolf, I'm not judging anyone."

He reassured her, though he really doubted Ingrid would care if he did judge her. It was like having a conversation with a sentient marble sculpture, so cold and hard she was as a person. Still, her strange smell and attractive features and the sheer impossibility of her was enough to have Vlad interested no matter how futile a crush it was.

"A werewolf? Right. Naturally. Who else knows about you?"

"Robin. I could have turned into a unicorn and he'd still assume I was a biter."

"Branagh? Really?"

Vlad nodded.

"The day we moved here, Robin used a rope and grappling hook to climb the tower and literally fell into my life."

Ingrid actually _laughed._ Granted, it was no busting belly laugh, but it was a smile, a sound, a genuine emotion on her face. Vlad wished he could ignore the way his gut tightened with attraction for it.

"Ingrid! What're you doing talking to the freak?"

"I talk to you don't I?"

The twins blinked, looked at each other before shrugging. Robin slunk back with his lunch in hand, surprisingly upbeat since all the twins had taken were his carrot sticks, which Robin hated anyway but his mother insisted on. They generally ended up in the bin.

Ingrid left with her lackeys in tow, and Robin looked at Vlad in confusion.

"What were you talking to Ingrid about?"

"Her little brother. Wanted to know if the rugby team would be willing to take him next year. I'm the only boy in school who can hold a conversation with her without leering apparently."

The rapid lie fell from his lips, but Robin was never going to talk to young George. Nor would Ingrid confirm or deny anything. So his little white lie should be fine.

"Oh. Right then. So what are we doing later?"

As Vlad contemplated the half-vampiress from afar, Robin chattered on and Vlad caught sight of one particular student who was paying Ingrid close attention, as he often did with very little subtlety.

How would Jonno, the son of Van Helsing, vampire slayer, take to finding out the object of his affections was the creature he denied the very existence of?

-YD-

 **Must resist urge to just jump right to the sexing. It's very difficult.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Curious little bats they be...**

 **Chapter includes my own backstory for dimidius - since we didn't get all that much in the show.**

-YD-

"Come on Vladdy! You have to pass these tests!"

Rolling his eyes, Vlad lowered the book in front of him. He'd read the same sentence six times and had absolutely no idea what it actually said. It was difficult to absorb any information with his father hovering - literally, floating three inches off the ground after trying to encourage Vlad to do flying practice - at his side.

"Yes dad, I know that. Question."

"Anything! I am a veritable fountain of knowledge!"

Highly doubting that, Vlad plowed on.

"If a dimidius didn't take their Blood Test, what would happen?"

"What sort of ridiculous question is that?"

Vlad shrugged, attempting to look offhanded.

"Just curious, I've come across the word a couple of times while studying but there isn't much information."

"And for good reason, filthy half-breeds" Vlad would pay good money to see his father say that to Ingrid's face "don't want to encourage anyone."

"Dad, you wanted to marry Mrs Branagh."

"Silence!"

Wincing, Vlad waited a minute before prompting his dad for an answer.

"Well? What would happen?"

"Well of course they wouldn't take tests, dimidius can only be sired by a vampire father. The human mother would have no idea, so where in Hell would they send the test? Now enough of this nonsense subject, get on with your revision."

Knowing if he asked anything else, his dad would just pitch a temper tantrum, Vlad quietly picked up his book - he'd got one of his answers anyway. So, Ingrid would get her powers if they figured out who her sire's clan was and got her to their Blood Mirror. But that was still a monumental task in itself, since she was the product of a one night stand sixteen years ago.

Next day at school, Vlad eyed Ingrid and noticed she kept rubbing her tongue over her teeth. The fang pains were kicking in, it seemed. Vlad didn't envy her those, he had had a few already and they weren't pleasant. Looking down at his lunch, Vlad picked out the half a beetle from his sandwich and dropped it to one side before starting on it. It wasn't much cop, but Vlad was determined to live off of 'normal' food as long as possible. He'd give it a damned good go post-transformation too, but wasn't sure how his body would handle blood free food.

He lived in hope.

"You ok Vlad?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah. Just checking my lunch for insect matter."

Robin frowned, seeming more grateful for his salad vegetables when faced with the prospect of Renfields cooking. Although... Robin did eat more of it than almost anyone else. Almost immune to the bizarre, vile combinations created by the servant man.

"It's double maths after lunch, just kill me now."

"You've survived every maths lesson up to now, you can manage a few more."

Sighing overdramatically, Robin stood to go and dump the rest of his lunch; he'd complain he was hungry half way through final classes, and ravenously devour anything within reach at either his house or Vlad's, depending on where he ended up going. It was a well established routine.

What was _not_ a well established routine was Ingrid appearing to talk to him after she saw Robin heading for his own house, though it was becoming a bizarrely frequent occurrence considering the zero conversation they had ever had before the vampire revelation. Still, it wasn't as though she could talk to anybody else about it.

"How do I get rid of the tooth pain?"

"You don't. At least, nobody has come up with a remedy yet. You could try breather toothache remedies, but I don't know how effective they'll be. Nobody has ever tried, pain is part of the process. Humanity leaving your body yada yada yada."

"You're really not sold on this are you?"

Was Ingrid asking a question about another person, one that would not help her in any way? It took him a minute to process before he answered.

"No. I hate it. But I've reached grim acceptance."

"You don't want to be a vampire?"

Oh wow, now she was actually saying the word. That was a fairly new thing too.

"No. Never have done. Spent years searching for a cure beyond a sharp wooden stake to the heart."

"That's... is that for real?"

"Yep. If you get a splinter any time soon, you might find it itches something fierce. And if you really like garlic bread, now's the time to make the most of it."

"I hate garlic bread."

"Then you're fine there. What else... you already do, but avoid the Van Helsings."

Ingrid raised a disdainful eyebrow.

" _Why_ exactly?"

"Vampire slayers."

"Oh, you are kidding."

"I wish. Mr Van Helsing keeps trying to break into my house and kill us."

She snorted, then gave Vlad a glare that said if he told anyone, she'd stake him herself. Vlad gave a nod to indicate he understood, hardly about to go discussing their vampire discussions with anybody. Oh bats, if Robin discovered Ingrid was half-vampire... he'd probably think he'd died and gone to his own personal bat-themed heaven.

"Does your dad know?"

"No. If he knew there was a slayer down the road we'd probably move again. The change from Transylvania was bad enough."

They were edging quite a bit closer to the castle now. Vlad wondered how far Ingrid was going to come up this time. Should he invite her in? That felt strange. But then he always felt a bit odd around her. That was probably the crush he had on her. If anything, he crushed harder knowing she was half-vampire, which surprised him since Vlad generally abhorred anything to do with vampirism.

"Are you planning to follow me in, or go home?"

Ingrid actually looked like she was considering it, but soon enough she was shrugging, turning on her heel and setting off back down the hill again. Sighing to himself. Vlad finished climbing the hill and let himself into the castle. It was back to the books, counting down the many months until his next Blood Test. Ingrid's birthday was in May, his Blood Test wasn't until autumn. It felt like years.

He wished it was years, many many more years before the change would come for him and snuff out the wonderful years as mostly human-ish before he grew fangs. Picking up his next tome, Vlad scratched absently at the side of his cheek, then almost fell out of his chair as his father appeared next to him.

"Ah!"

"Vladdy! Jaw pain? Fangs coming through?"

"No. Itchy face."

"Oh. Shame! I was going to fetch you something to bite."

Rolling his eyes, Vlad tutted at his father.

"I told you, I'm not biting anyone or anything."

"Fine. Suffer your toothache!"

Something about that piqued his interest, Vlad turned before his father flitted off in a strop.

"Does biting alleviate fang pain?"

"Of course! Preferably alive, but meaty will do. What else would do it? That's what they are for!"

Then his father vanished, but Vlad had the answer he'd been looking for. Ingrid would hopefully be happy to hear that biting something like a steak ought to at least ease her pain. Although Vlad suspected if she wanted, Ingrid could ask for biting volunteers and have a line of boys offering their throats in the hopes it would get them a hickey from the most popular and desirable girl in school.

He'd probably think about joining in.

Over two weeks since Vlad informed her of her impending change, Ingrid still randomly turned up for ten minutes of conversation whenever she felt like swooping into his life, then vanished again. It was very strange, but Vlad was getting used to it more or less. Sometimes she even asked a question that wasn't 100% about her. If Vlad didn't know better, he'd suggest Ingrid had a semblance of cordiality and friendship.

Then she'd call him more biting rat than biting bat, and he'd remember she didn't really care for him. Just needed the information to understand what was happening to her, and couldn't get it elsewhere.

"What are you staring at?"

Ingrid spat, in a _particularly_ testy mood that day. And for her, that was no small feat considering she was pricklier than a porcupine on a good day.

"Your teeth. Your fangs are starting to show a little."

He couldn't quite take his eyes off the beginnings of sharpened points. It had always confused him that the sharpness showed before transforming, when the ability to retract and lower fangs at will would come. Ingrid raised a hand to her mouth, rubbing her thumb over her canines.

"Oh spectacular. What am I meant to do with that?"

"Focus. Maybe you can retract them."

"My _teeth?_ "

"Fangs are retractable. However, since they haven't officially descended, I have no idea why they are showing now. Unless you had a spectacular burst of gum pain last night?"

Ingrid shook her head, still probing her own dental peculiarity.

"No."

"Then I have no idea. I can only suggest biting practice."

"Excuse me?"

She finally lowered her hand from her mouth, looking at Vlad incredulously.

"Did I not tell you that? Biting helps, according to my dad. Needs to either be something alive, or something that was like a big steak."

"So I either rip someones throat out, or eat a steak?"

Ingrid really did look like he was talking pure rubbish, but she was listening all the same. Vlad would be amazed if she wasn't already planning what she could sink her fangs in to.

"You probably couldn't rip out someones throat yet, but I wouldn't advise trying. Steak will do."

Rolling her eyes for reasons known only to her, Ingrid ran her tongue over her teeth, then eyed him oddly.

"Maybe I'll bite you. This is all your fault."

"My fault? I just gave you context, this would all still be happening if I hadn't told you."

As she left, Vlad felt the sting of disappointment making itself known.

He should have just let her bite him.

-YD-

 **Am going to try and make these chapters longer, but its always a drag doing build up when there's sibling smut to be writing!**


	4. Chapter 4

**My biggest issue with shipping Vlad and Ingrid is that they don't have a smush-name. So I loosely refer to them as Drac-cest.**

-YD-

Pinned to the wall with her teeth in his neck, Vlad was definitely surprised. Happy, but surprised.

It was one of their random chats, but he could see the tension in Ingrid's shoulders. The way she clenched her jaw. Hear the timbre of her voice shifting in preparation of a primal creatures call. She couldn't stop prodding her teeth with her tongue, and the sight was getting to Vlad. The wet muscle gliding over sharpening points, the way her silver-blue eyes darkened...

She noticed. Ingrid had always been intelligent, aware of others and how she affected them. Used it to her advantage, more often than not. Even so, Vlad wasn't expecting her to launch at him, teeth biting urgently at his throat in broad daylight. She was stronger now, easily capable of pinning him.

Vlad hadn't expected it to feel so _good._ Blood, it felt wrong to let someone suck at his throat like he was a Transylvanian peasant, but it felt so incredibly good that Vlad didn't care. His knees threatened to buckle as Ingrid sucked harder, bit so sharply he expected his skin to tear. Ingrid seemed incapable of stopping herself, only letting him go when Vlad's legs gave way and he scrambled for stability against the wall behind him. She stared, very clearly shocked with herself. Vlad was too overwhelmed to speak, saliva cooling on his neck over a pulsing, throbbing bruise he couldn't wait to go and admire, to prove that had actually just happened.

Ingrid took off; he wasn't surprised by _that_ , since it was how all their conversations ended. Letting his head fall back against the solid brick behind wasn't the smartest idea. Now his head and his neck hurt. Tugging at his collar was futile in an attempt to cover up, so Vlad had to just _hope_ his father wasn't awake when he got back. Thankfully, there was no sign of life - or unlife - in the castle when he got back. Scuttling up to his room, Vlad hunted out the mirror and twisted his head, impressed by the sheer depth of bruising as much as anything.

As brutal as any full blood biter, that was for sure.

"Vladdy!"

Oh no. Vlad hunched down, but there was no hiding Ingrid's handiwork.

"Hi dad."

"What in the name of Nosferatu have you been doing?"

His dad gripped his hair, shoving Vlad's head to one side to get a proper look at the massive bruise. Vlad closed his eyes and prepared to lie.

"I was fooling around with a girl at school. Breathers like lovebites too."

"That's my boy! A ladies man just like his father! Wait a moment. This isn't why you were asking all those things about half-breeds was it?"

Vlad rolled his eyes.

"Dad. I'm untransformed. I can't get _anyone_ pregnant."

"Oh. Yes. Of course. So long as you stop playing with your food after your sixteenth birthday!"

Well, at least his dad was off his case - and off his _hair_ , more importantly - so Vlad could get back to his sandwich. He half wanted to play with the sandwich for his dad to see - to play with his food, as it were.

"Whoa-oh-ohhhh! What happened to you Vladdo?"

"Yeah, that's a beauty!"

Vlad stayed tight lipped the next morning, meeting Robin to go to school and being wolf-whistled by the Branagh twins for the deep bruise on his throat. Robin looked no less stunned, but at least he waited until they were alone to ask about it.

"Who did that?"

Luckily, he already had an excuse thought up.

"Another vampire. Fly by visit from a friend of dads last night, but because of my tests, there was insistence upon biting practice."

Robin was mostly annoyed that he missed out on meeting other vampires - and meeting a vampiress, specifically. His dream death was definitely being drained to a bloodless corpse by an attractive vampire female.

Which was why Robin wasn't going to find out about Ingrid. Gorgeous, with a heart of ice and impending fangs... she was his ideal.

Vlad was trying to ignore that she was pretty ideal to him too, despite his gut-deep hatred of vampirism and anything to do with it. His neck throbbed as a reminder, wondering if she'd look at it and know, look at it and _remember._

"Damn though. Was she cute?"

"Uh, she was ok. For a biter."

Robin continued waxing poetic about how much he would have loved to be in Vlad's place, and how a vampiress wouldn't be able to resist him. Given Robin's aversion to personal hygiene, Vlad suspected most vampires would have to be pretty thirsty to go for his neck. Or holding their breath and going very, very quickly. They approached the school like every other day, and Vlad heard wolf-whistles from the odd student as they saw his bruise. Teachers gave him judgemental looks, tutted.

Mr Van Helsing practically had a stroke.

He wondered what the slayer father-and-son pair thought had happened to him, what possible reason there could be for the vampire himself to be bitten. Vlad wondered how jealous Jonno would be to know it was Ingrid. Ingrid who'd pinned him to the wall, teeth rough on his neck and strong hands on his shoulders. Her bite imprinted on his neck, the first hints of fang scraping...

Vlad needed to stop thinking about it. Ingrid's senses were still growing, still refining, but he doubted she wouldn't be able to tell he was aroused. It was constantly sending warmth pulsing through him, that feeling only increasing when he caught sight of the vamp-to-be in question. She was subtle, but Vlad felt her eyes on his neck. Knew Ingrid could see the stark evidence that her mouth had bit and sucked at his throat, that when she lost control, he was the target.

"Did it help?"

For the first time in weeks, Vlad felt brave enough to approach her. He caught Ingrid loitering on the field in the shade, scratching at her arms and the irritation from her long nails was clear.

"Did what?"

"Biting me. How are your teeth?"

He watched as Ingrid ran her tongue over her front teeth again, before a tiny nod.

"Better."

"Use aftersun on your arms. Eases the UV irritation. And apply more sun block."

"I'm wearing sun block."

"Not this one."

Knowing her birthday was in summer meant Vlad knew Ingrid would be suffering, so when he saw the sun shining that morning he brought out a tube of Sun Block 75.

"It goes pretty far. Vamps wear it if they have to make a quick jaunt. It won't last long after you change, but for now it should stop you scratching off your skin."

Ingrid eyed him suspiciously.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because you have nobody else who understands. Call it an early birthday present, since the one you'll be getting is no fun. What are you going to tell your family? You won't be able to come back to school."

Ingrid sighed, taking the tube of sun block from him.

"I have no idea. How do you even tell somebody this?"

"If you want, I can... it's unorthodox, but I could help."

That won him more wary looks, but Vlad supposed it did sound quite suspect.

"Doing what?"

Vlad explained hypnotism - it had been in the information he gave Ingrid to read, but she might have skipped it as nonsense in favour of learning about more serious things like fangs and bloodlust.

"That sounds ridiculous."

"It's true. I once accidentally hypnotised my dad. Convinced him he loved bright colours and wasn't a vampire."

Ingrid let out a short laugh.

"How did that work out for you?"

"Well, I was grounded and flown into a tree. I had to reverse it when Mr Van Helsing came over and I realised dad might get slain because he wouldn't be able to fight back."

Leaning against the wall, Ingrid quirked an eyebrow.

"How do you screw anything up that badly?"

"It was an accident!"

They actually talked; Vlad told her more of the antics caused between he and the slayers. Ingrid laughed, responded, asked more questions. Vlad felt oddly... engaged by her, unused to such an interactive Ingrid.

Only when the bell rang for the end of the school day did Vlad realise just how long they'd stood out there chatting away. He wondered if Ingrid biting him was the trigger to making her open up; biting was functional, but a vampires first bite was important, often intimate or a sign of their becoming themselves. Most didn't do it before they transformed, but Ingrid was on the cusp - and dimidius. Her two sides were at war.

"You could come over to the castle sometime you know. My dad already thinks I fool around with breather girls for fun."

"Why?"

Vlad turned his head, exposing the deep bruise on his neck.

"Not exactly easy to hide,"

"Oh."

He didn't miss the way her eyes followed the motion, watching Vlad's neck arch. Trying to keep his heart rate under control, Vlad waited to see if Ingrid said anything in response to his semi-invitation.

"Well?"

Vlad frowned.

"Well, what?"

"Are we going?"

He blinked. Did Ingrid just agree?

"Uh. Ok then. Let's go."

-YD-

 **Oh I wonder what could possibly go wrong here...**


	5. Chapter 5

**I mean, we all know where this can only end up going...**

 **he he he**

-YD-

Vlad wasn't sure why he was surprised, other than that Ingrid was voluntarily touching him again. Well. Biting him. There were fresh bruises on both sides of his neck, littering his collarbone, skin pulsing and aching pleasantly as her teeth dug down again. Ingrid had to know the effect she was having on him, blood flowing south with every new bite.

The fact she was even in his bedroom sounded like a lurid fantasy nobody would ever believe, even as she attacked the delicate skin of his neck again and Vlad was finding it harder to stay still, to not beg her to stop - because who would, in their right mind, want _Ingrid_ to stop touching them - so he could catch his breath and try to will away his erection before it made things awkward.

Even so, Ingrid couldn't possibly ignore the thrum of his pulse, the scent of arousal on the air. She came up to breathe again, faintest flush on her cheeks and chest heaving with panting breaths; this would undoubtedly be feeding the ever-growing vampiric side of her, get her fired up though perhaps in a different way to Vlad. Her eyes were turning black, still hovering at the edge between human and creature. To his great surprise, her eyes flickered between his neck and his lips, as though the girl atop him was considering-

"Vladdy!"

Ingrid leapt off of him as if she'd been burned, pushing away as his bedroom door flew open, revealing his dad standing there. The Count stared down at the bed, perplexed by the scene before him - there was little doubt _something_ had been going on, and he'd be able to hear racing hearts, see the bruises forming on Vlad's skin while Ingrid's own marble tone was completely unblemished.

"Dad! Go away!"

"But I-"

"Go!"

Grumbling, his father turned and left in a speedy zipping, room-rattling flit. If Ingrid hadn't already known what she was, what they were, that could have been incredibly suspect. Still, the damage was done. Ingrid climbed off his bed, glancing back at his covered neck for a second before she was picking up her skull-shaped bag. Vlad tried to think of words that would make her stay, but his mind was utterly blank. As he followed Ingrid down numbly, making sure his dad didn't try and eat her, Vlad also contemplated simply staking his dad.

Ingrid almost kissed him.

That definitely happened. Well, almost. It seemed to be heading that way...

Ok, so she hadn't definitely almost kissed him. But Vlad was sure it could have gone that way if his dad hadn't came in and ruined it. Alone with a slightly perplexed Dracula, Vlad closed the castle door and turned to his sheepish-looking parent.

"What are you doing awake? It's not even dark yet!"

"I didn't realise you had company. You move fast, you dark horse!"

Vlad rolled his eyes.

"And you scared her off. So thanks for that."

He could feel his dad eyeing his bruises. There were several more than there had been earlier; Vlad was very glad it was the weekend, that he had a couple of days to figure out what to do with the mess she'd made of him.

First... Vlad really needed a cold shower.

Flopping down onto his bed with a groan, Vlad rubbed a hand over his face. If he wasn't still aching, he'd scarcely have believed Ingrid had really been there. Even with the scent of her perfume infusing itself into his sheets. Being caught by his _dad_ was a pretty effective arousal-killer, but it still left Vlad confused and unsettled. Ingrid was the personification of _mixed signals,_ blowing hot and cold constantly until Vlad was so turned around he didn't know which way was up, let alone where he actually stood with her.

 _And_ he was meant to be going up town with Robin tomorrow. That was going to be a fun explanation. Groaning, Vlad got up and went to his pile of clothes, sorting through it for a thick hoody that would probably make him sweat, but at least it might have a chance at concealing the state of his neck. Ingrid had gone lower down this time, perhaps innately knowing where she could bite without actually tearing a blood vessel - he'd probably be a less willing victim if she actually _killed_ him.

It still confused him though; Ingrid could get any guy to let her bite and bruise their neck. Why him? It had to be that he understood the compulsion. He couldn't imagine anything else initially drawing her to him, other than that they both had something deep and probably terrifying in their future.

Getting up the next morning, Vlad looked at the bruising that had since had time to develop. Blood and garlic, Ingrid was rough with him. Vlad hadn't realised he was in to that before her. Then again, it might just be that he was in to _her._ Vlad had never had much interest in breather girls, possibly because he knew it would never go anywhere. But he'd not had much interest in vampire women either.

Ingrid was somewhere in the middle, and he definitely had an interest in her.

Tugging on the heavy hoody, Vlad sighed as his vampire-temperature body complained of the warm layers in the warm air, heading down the stairs to get breakfast before he went to meet Robin.

"Ah, Vladdy. I do hope there are no hard feelings about that breather girl."

"Just... stay out of my room in future! Or stay asleep in the day like you're always insisting vampires should. Next time I'll leave the window open so you explode if you come in."

Vlad doubted Ingrid was ever going to come back, but the threat seemed to hit its mark. With the spring fading closer to summer, the tower window let in a lot of sunlight. So a full blood, transformed (nearly six centuries ago) vampire wouldn't want to encounter that room. Smirking to himself as his dad baulked, Vlad picked up his toast and headed toward the front door. Before he could say he was going out, there was a rapid knock at the castle door before Robin simply let himself in. For such a chronically _lazy_ human, Robin always seemed perfectly happy to climb the hills to the spooky old castle.

Rather unobservant, especially with vampire stuff about, Robin didn't seem to notice Vlad was dressed poorly for the heat or that the reason for that was the ravaged skin beneath. Finally dragging his friend away to get out into the sunshine, (while he still could) Vlad drifted in and out of what Robin was spouting, pondering the upcoming Monday - his uniform wouldn't cover much, and he might have the chance to actually ask Ingrid what the blood and garlic she wanted from him. Not that he expected an answer... but Vlad needed a little clarity before he went crazy.

-YD-

 **Short and late but I had wifi issues and writers block, and I apologise _but_ next chapter... well, I imagine you'll like it!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey guys, sorry for the delay but I went on a brief unscheduled hiatus owing to having a bit of a mental meltdown...**

 **back now!**

-YD-

"I reckon she fancies me."

"Who?"

Distracted by his burger, Vlad only just realised that Robin was actually speaking to him.

"Ingrid."

Vlad choked, coughing on a piece of questionable welsh beef and washing it down with a slurp of cola that was being diluted by ice every passing minute. Throat cleared at last, Vlad gave his friend an incredulous look.

"What in the name of all that is evil gives you that idea?"

"Well, why else would she be talking to you all the time if not to get close to me?"

His neck still throbbed where Ingrid had bitten him repeatedly, violently. Vlad wouldn't make such a claim as to say Ingrid was attracted to _him,_ but he was quietly confident she at least didn't find him repulsive. He was more than quietly confident Ingrid did _not_ fancy Robin. However, he couldn't tell Robin why Ingrid spent more than three seconds at a time interacting with Vlad.

"I told you-"

"Yeah, yeah, rugby. That's just an excuse. I'm gonna ask her to the disco."

Oh, Vlad could already see the impending disaster. He considered trying to talk Robin out of it... but it would be impossible anyway, and it might also be enough to get him to leave the poor girl alone. Bats only knew how she tolerated so much attention all of the time. Vlad was quite content to only exist on the rugby pitch to most people, able to quietly get on with his unlife before the Mirror came calling.

It stayed light later in the evenings now summer was coming, a fact Vlad appreciated as it kept his dad out of his room more often. So he relaxed, illicit stash of sweets stuffed out of sight but within reach as he flicked through a book, watching the sun - his tower bedroom gave him the ultimate view of the sky. Standing up, Vlad crossed the short gap to look out properly, dragging in a breath of warm spring air. Breaths he'd not need any longer come his sixteenth birthday.

Something hit him in the face.

Blinking in surprise, he brushed a hand over and found a pebble lodged in his collar. Confused, Vlad looked down and saw Ingrid stood down the base of the castle. Naturally, he glanced to check his room wasn't too messy, stepped into shoes and jogged down to the front door. Garlic forbid Renfield open the door... Ingrid's growing senses would revolt at the mans pungent, awful odour.

"Hi? Did we... have plans?"

He was certain they didn't, but Ingrid could have made plans with him and just not told him. He wouldn't put it past her.

"No."

"Right. You uh, coming in?"

Ingrid didn't actually answer other than to walk right on in, which Vlad supposed was an answer in and of itself. She knew the way to his room already, headed up and glanced around, frowning at the open window.

"I'd close it but the sun is all that keeps my dad out."

She nodded, eyes roving down his bruised neck. Vlad could see her pupils dilate, cocked his head slightly to see how baring his throat affected her. She wasn't the only one; her skin was warmed by the climb up to the castle, blood running quicker and hotter. Vlad could _smell_ her, unique scent pumping into the air and intriguing him as much as ever.

Ingrid crossed the few steps between them, so Vlad left himself open to her bite as he expected her to want. Instead, fingers twisted in his hair and yanked his head straight, cool lips closing over his and leaving Vlad with a stuttering heartbeat and a shot of lusting shock surging through his veins. He was numb at first, but attempted to respond though he was undoubtedly clumsy and awkward with both inexperience and the stunning event.

"Wow. Ok. Wasn't expecting that."

"I like you better when you _don't talk_."

Vlad shut up, save for the grunts he couldn't quite quiet as Ingrid yanked at his collar, exposing skin on his shoulder and collarbones not yet littered with marks in the shape of her teeth. Though Ingrid quickly set about rectifying it, shoving him back toward his bed and all but crawling over him, mouth wet as she bit at his lips. The suddenness of her shift from using him to ease her toothache to dominating his mouth so keenly left his mind whirling, but even if Vlad could _breathe_ he wouldn't use the breath to argue.

Maybe to ask what changed her tune, because he really was perplexed.

Even more so when Ingrid straddled him properly, clearly aware of Vlad's bodily response to her proximity, her mouth, her teeth. She grappled with his t-shirt, growling that it didn't come apart like a school issue button up would. Eventually, she sat up and yanked it up from the waist, leaving Vlad shirtless and shivering despite the warm air as her hands splayed on his bare chest. More sharp, hungry bites left their mark on him, what little air he drew in stolen from his lungs by burning kisses. Blood, Ingrid could kiss. Vlad wasn't surprised by that fact.

"What is this?"

What on earth was he asking that for? Vlad cursed his short-circuiting brain, somehow forgetting that he wasn't supposed to say something to make her mad; Ingrid was an intensely mercurial person, changing her mind on a whim at any given moment.

"I don't know. All I know is you're the only one I... the only one who could understand."

It was a whisper, words all but breathed against him, like Ingrid hadn't meant to say it but the words slipped free anyway. Vlad let it stay at that; if Ingrid wanted only his understanding, she already had it. Who else could fathom the change she was about to go through? That a life previously imagined was all to change. Granted, Vlad had always known, but as a boy he had held on to some fantastical notion that he'd find a cure, get out of the transformation.

By now, he'd begrudgingly accepted that it was inevitable, and Vlad decided he'd do it _his_ way however he could. Including the soy blood his uncle talked about. Nobody had to get hurt to feed him, and that was good news to Vlad. He'd work out how normal a life was possible as he went through his unlife later on. Hands flexed against his chest, not mocking his narrow frame; vampires didn't gain weight easy, though some natural muscle would develop around sixteen to help conduct his supernatural strength to the right places. Ingrid was slim too, small waist and slim thighs, though the flare of her hips and the swell of her chest were both soft, inviting-looking curves.

The longer Ingrid kissed him, the more Vlad wondered if she really had been disappointed by the interruption before. She inhaled at his throat, making a low sound in her chest that made him shudder, twitch.

"You smell different."

Definitely a vamprie thing to say.

"Your senses are changing. You're identifying me as a vampire."

"Which is hilarious" Ingrid looked up at him, amusement in her eyes "cus you don't much act like one."

Vlad felt a laugh bubble up in his throat.

"I take that as a great compliment."

"Of course you do."

The sun was beginning to set; Vlad could see it in the way neither of them were aglow any longer, pale skin lighting easy. Soon his father would wake, and probably interrupt them again. Vlad winced at the thought, especially after Ingrid had undressed him.

"We should talk some time soon."

Ingrid frowned. Her rough need seemed to have abated, though she was still half-on-top of him and he was still... _aware_ quite physically of her.

"About what?"

"What to do about your birthday. I know you like to put it off, but it's gonna happen. A plan wouldn't be a bad thing."

He braced himself for a silent exit, possibly with a death glare to match. Instead, Ingrid actually contemplated his words, running a thumb over his bitten lip in a touch so surprisingly tender Vlad scarcely knew what to do with it.

"Yeah, maybe. I should go, my brother is a pain when I'm out past dark."

"George? That kid worships you."

"Of course he does, but he also knows everyone else does and nags me about where I've been. I can hardly tell him the truth."

Vlad still wasn't sure what their 'truth' was, in all honesty, but... Ingrid seemed to be opening up, just a sliver. He'd not push it. Not when she was quite so pleasant to feel pressed against him. She leant down again, kissed Vlad... not quite sweetly, but it wasn't the demanding assault of lips and teeth and tongue of before. More a kiss for the sake of kissing, which he was fine with.

Well, until his dad walked in.

"Vladdy- oh. Hello again. Good on you my boy!"

Head falling back with a groan, Vlad grabbed the nearest thing - a book - and launched it toward the door.

"Dad!"

-YD-

 **Now these two are doing the whole talking thing we can finally start to get a move on! Woo**


	7. Chapter 7

**I know, I know! Ah. As I predicted to myself before, I cannot handle Kinktober and keeping up with my stories, but I promise whenever I get a spare minute this has been my priority. Once October is over we can resume normal flailing about weekly updates hopefully.**

-YD-

Sunday lived up to its name, yellow orb in the sky pulsing heat and bright light down in a very un-Welsh way. Vlad got up and dressed, grabbing toast from Renfield on his way to get outside lest his father surprise him by being awake. and waylay Vlad from heading out to enjoy the sunshine.

Spending a lot of time with Ingrid reminded Vlad how his own humanity was going to end far sooner than he would like, though not as soon as Ingrid's would, and so he resolved to appreciate the things he'd lose. He even thought about buying garlic bread, but his father would have lynched him for cooking that in the castle. He diverted around the Branagh house on his way, knowing Robin wouldn't want to amble through the sunshine lest a single bit of his skin show exposure.

The local park was bustling with others enjoying the weather. Even from a distance, Vlad could make out the jet black under a parasol amidst a sea of sunshine-colours. He didn't cross over and interrupt Ingrid's time with her family; she had precious little left, as a human anyway. His lazy stroll took him along the path trodden into grass a thousand times over, though Vlad expected the persevering attitude of nature would fight to regrow there if people left it alone.

He heard it just before it landed, ball hitting him square in the side and shocking an _oof!_ noise out of Vlad. A young boy jogged up near him to retrieve it, apologising profusedly.

"Oh, George! Be careful!"

"Sorry mom! Oh, hey. I know you. You're friends with my sister."

Vlad realised the youth was Ingrid's younger brother, with his mop of curls that didn't look to be inherited from their mother - although Ingrid's straight hair could be from her fathers side, as all they currently knew about her father was species. Curls weren't predominant amongst vampires, though there were some.

"Uh, I know her, yeah."

"You should come tell her to stop hiding from the sunshine!"

Trying to resist, Vlad found the boy had a matching trait to Ingrid - bright blue eyes, and that was enough to break his admittedly weak resolve to leave Ingrid alone. Letting George lead him over, he could _smell_ the vampire sunscreen Ingrid had layered on. This must be uncomfortable at the very least, and his heart ached a little to think Ingrid was putting herself through it for her families sake.

"Sorry about George's ball."

"It's fine. No harm done."

Their mother was pretty, smiled warmly and reached to pat her young son on the arm as he came over clutching his ball. She had paint on her face.

"Are you in Ingrid's year at school?"

"Me? No, below. But Ingrid is friends with the Branagh twins, and I'm friends with their younger brother."

It felt very odd to be meeting Ingrid's mother this way, or _any_ way really. Ingrid was peering up at him curiously from under her parasol, as if silently asking what the blood and garlic he thought he was doing appearing in her life when she hadn't asked for it. But he didn't want to appear rude.

"I'm Vlad by the way."

"Sally. And you've met George, no doubt."

Vlad nodded, smiling before gesturing behind him.

"Well, I'm going to finish my walk. Enjoy your afternoon."

"Wait" Ingrid called out, standing up with an unerring grace rather than that clumsy teetering everybody else would have done "I'll walk with you. I've had quite enough sun for the year."

George hopped over and hugged his sister, grinning unapologetically when Ingrid rolled her eyes and pretended to shove him off.

"See you when we get home."

"Little pest. Bye mum."

Vlad wasn't sure what he thought of the look Sally was giving them, but since Ingrid was volunteering to spend time with him - in _public,_ no less - he saw no real reason to lodge any form of complaint. They fell into step rather quickly, although Vlad had to work a little to keep up with Ingrid's longer legs. Her parasol was as co-ordinated as the rest of her outfit, black with a red lace trim.

"Why did you decide to walk with me, exactly?"

Why was he asking? Vlad really needed to get a reign on the way she shorted his mind, forgetting to shut the hell up whenever Ingrid was around.

"Because my mother will think it's because I'm interested in you, rather than needing to get out of the sun."

He almost asked if she _was_ interested in him; the kissing indicated yes, but Ingrid was presently showing next to no interest in him whatsoever. The good thing about Stokely was its weird, sloping streets and crowded housing areas meant lots of shade, lots of places the sun couldn't reach so Ingrid was less uncomfortable. _How_ she traversed the steep slopes in those heels was anyones guess, though as she was grace personified, he supposed that it was actually quite easy for her. They reached the spot where they would part ways to go to seperate homes in otherwise total silence, and Vlad wondered what he was supposed to make of it. Even now, Ingrid kept him thrown.

"Where are you going?"

Confused, Vlad looked at Ingrid, gesturing lamely toward the castle. She rolled her eyes, indicated with her head to continue walking with her. Bemused, Vlad obeyed. There really was no predicting her. They walked the last few twists and turns to the Giles home, Ingrid letting herself in with a key attached to keyrings shaped like bats, coffins and... a football?

"It was a gift from George. He thought my keys needed more colour."

"Oh. Fair enough."

She looked at Vlad strangely as he hovered at the door, unsure what he was supposed to be thinking.

"What are you doing now? Waiting for an invitation?"

"Uh. Sort of?"

"Come in you idiot."

He didn't strictly _need_ an invite to enter a dwelling, but Vlad knew he would one day and watching his dad need one whenever they went anywhere had sort of ingrained the habit in him. It took weeks before he stopped waiting for it to enter the Branagh house.

"You'll need one soon."

"What? That's for real?"

Vlad nodded, glancing around the home. It was homely, inviting, felt like someone _lived_ in it. It had colour and decorations that weren't once alive. No dust crunched underfoot. No cobwebs lurked in corners. Honestly, Ingrid looked strange against the backdrop, but it was clear she felt at home there all the same as she folded down her parasol.

"Yeah. This is your dwelling, so you won't need one for here. And schools and shops and stuff don't count, but if anyone alive considers it a _home_ then yep, invite-only."

"Running water?"

"Uh-huh. You have to stand under the shower head before you turn it on, but luckily your skin will be much more cold-resistant by then."

Ingrid frowned, leaning against the side in the kitchen and eyeing Vlad as he shuffled awkwardly.

"Why do you look so uncomfortable?"

"Because... I don't know what I am to you."

It came out before he could stop it, but Ingrid didn't seem annoyed thankfully. She considered him for a good minute, silver-blue eyes alluring even then.

"Truthfully, neither do I."

That didn't seem to stop her from grabbing Vlad by the wrist, pulling him along behind her as they headed for a staircase. He saw the sign saying "George's Room" on one door, a couple of unremarkable doors and then one that _screamed_ 'Ingrid' - it was painted black and had yellow tape wrapped around it stating 'Crime Scene - Keep Out'. Heart pounding in his chest, Vlad felt like there was a world of difference between Ingrid letting herself into Vlad's room, and her letting _him_ into _her_ room. Her space. Somewhere he doubted many, if any, other men besides her brother had ever been.

"What are you doing?"

Ingrid turned toward him as he questioned, hand on the doorknob twisting to open it before she began to lead him inside.

"Answering you."

-YD-

 **Well! I finally got this typed up. I won't promise any more October updates, because besides Kinktober I have other stuff going on over the next fortnight, but I will be back! And... yeah. It'll be fun.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Yeah, I know!**

 **But this was worked on whenever I had a spare minute, but at the same time I didn't want to rush it, because, well...**

 **yeah.**

-YD-

Vlad glanced around in the few seconds he had, mind declaring the room was so very _Ingrid_ before her cool mouth chased those things out, leaving only a pleasant sort of white noise in his head as she pulled him toward her bed. It threw him a little, her softness with him. Vlad was very much used to being tossed down, bitten, those softer kisses in his bedroom seeming more of an afterthought than these deliberate, searching, tasting sweeps of her mouth over his. He wondered how her lipstick didn't smudge, didn't even seem to smear onto his lips.

Her bedsheets were a crimson satin, cool and smooth to the touch as Ingrid nudged and pushed him toward her bed. Not unlike her. The residual warmth on her skin from the sunlight was fading, leaving the lower temperature of someone fast approaching living-dead status.

Vlad was not the slightest bit surprised by the fact Ingrid was a 'girl on top' type. Nor was he inclined in any way to _complain_ about that fact. Though he was slightly confused as Ingrid rolled to her side, ceasing kisses meaning they were now looking at each other, her breath cool and sweet across his face as both sought to regain control of themselves. The idea he tested Ingrid's control in any way made him _dizzy,_ to say the least.

"What will happen to me if I turn sixteen and still don't know who my father is?"

He frowned.

"You'll get all the downsides and none of the... well, my father would call them perks. You'll be allergic to sunlight and garlic, your pulse and breathing and body temperature would drop to a point any medical professional for breathers would call incompatible with life. You'll be able to live on breather food, but you'll probably always feel hungry even though blood would make you sick" Vlad wondered if soya blood was a compromise they could try there - nutritionally sound and non-toxic to breathers "and you won't have super senses, fly... you might have underdeveloped fangs, you might not. No speed. No transforming. No hypnosis."

Ingrid blinked, processing. Her eyes were so very pretty, wide and with that unique shade of silvery-blue that was hypnotic all by itself, even without powers.

"Wow. Ok. That was... honest. And vaguely terrifying to contemplate."

She sat up, hair falling over her face until she brushed it aside. Vlad rolled on to his back, thinking.

"You could probably pass as developing acute porphyria. It's happened a couple of times before. And treatments include haem transfusions, which your body _would_ accept, and you'd be expected to avoid the sun, be repulsed by strong smells like garlic. But I don't think it will necessarily come to that."

Ingrid turned around, face a mix of distrust and desperation. He didn't blame her - finding out she was a vampire only to possibly be trapped in that halfway state forever?

"Why?"

"Because to conceive you, a vampire will have had to have been somewhere with breathers. Most of our kind is scattered in small, secluded clans now. If you can get that information from your mother, it would narrow the whole prospective list down considerably because by and large, the only interaction vampires have with humans is as lunch."

Vlad was determined to change that, laughable as most found the idea. But he had all of eternity looming. He'd need a hobby.

"Right."

"So calculating back from your date of birth, you can get a when. If your mother can give you an exact _where,_ it shouldn't be impossible to find out who was around then. Vampires feud so much that it's not unusual for one to have a three century tantrum in one country, so we mostly know where everybody is. It would be worse if it was a nomadic biter, but those are monitored by the Slayers Guild, so _worst case scenario_ , I hypnotise Mr Van Helsing for that information."

The idea Vlad had plans to ensure they had a half-decent shot at finding who Ingrid's father was seemed to soothe her, though she frowned again after a moments thought.

"And what happens when we find out? From what you've told me, the instinctual response is going to be to kill me, hide the secret. And what if they are in another country?"

"I don't know yet, but I will figure something out. You're not alone in this Ingrid."

He reached for her on instinct, feeling foolish right up until Ingrid let him, fingers sliding through hers as they _held hands._

"If you ever tell anyone I said this, I'll deny it. I don't need full powers to kill you in your sleep. But... thank you."

Vlad nodded, unsure how to describe the next kiss she gave him other than it really felt like Ingrid _meant_ it. Like the others had been practice, leading up to this kiss, one that seemed to dig under his skin and sink through to his bones. More physical, with her hand in his and the other curling loosely in his jumper. Slower, deliberate in the way Ingrid pulled away in time to leave him gasping, wanting her mouth back against his own.

"I know you don't have a word for... whatever this is, and that's ok. I won't pressure you, here or outside. But... can you at least try to stay open like this with me when we're alone? It makes figuring this out a lot easier if I don't have to spend all my time figuring _you_ out too."

Ingrid's mouth twisted in thought, and Vlad got the impression nobody had ever challenged her on how reserved and closed her emotions were. It was clear as day she loved her mother, that she'd rip the throat out of of anyone who threatened her baby brother even before she knew her DNA would tell her to. He didn't know enough about the man she'd called 'dad', but the shadow in her face when Ingrid realised her father wasn't her father told Vlad plenty. Ingrid didn't _do_ feelings, and he knew the effort it cost her to open up, even a little. Vlad wouldn't demand more, but there and then? He'd settle for that as the baseline. She sighed deeply, looking at Vlad as though searching for answers to a question she hadn't even asked herself yet...

and nodded.

-YD-

 **Simultaenously juggling a slow burn and the two months to her birthday time limit I put in when I started this is hard, but I think it's sort of all coming together. I know these chapters are short, but they'll start jumping up when I can put more in without it being a big messy rush, promise!  
**


	9. Chapter 9

**Finally getting to something resembling normality. Honest. Whatever normality is.**

 **Here is a reward for all the patience *flings out bat biscuits*  
**

-YD-

When Ingrid suggested (and by suggested, Vlad meant she sort of turned up at the castle) they talk vampire stuff, even with the fact she kissed him a lot given almost any chance they were alone, he was still surprised.

Mostly because usually, when she pinned him to his bed like _that_ , she wanted to bite him. So far, the only teeth he'd felt were quick nips at his mouth, making his lips more sensitive to the cool, insistent pressure of hers. Vlad could only assume he'd improved his technique some how, as Ingrid kept making the most maddening, tempting sounds in the back of her throat, those fingers buried in his hair flexing against his scalp when she pulled back to breathe. He could barely draw air himself, dizzy with the feel and taste and scent of her already.

Her dropping temperature left him covered in goosebumps, but Vlad wouldn't have cared if it was like being pressed against a block of ice when said ice was _Ingrid,_ tongue pushing between his lips to taste his mouth. She retreated, frowning.

"What have you been eating?"

"Uh, chocolate? But your taste buds will be changing. You'll go off some stuff for a bit, but they'll settle after... after."

As though reminded of what she'd actually come over for - or said she had, anyway - she slid from her position looming over him, both to Vlad's disappointment and relief as he was finally about to breathe again, but, well, Ingrid was no longer pressed against him.

"I asked my mother."

"And?"

"Whitby Goth Festival."

Vlad frowned, having very little idea what that even was. He thought Robin might have mentioned it once. At least he knew where Whitby was. That was a start.

"That helps. All I have to do is find out which were here between fifteen and twenty years ago."

"Oh, is that _all?_ "

He tried not to take her biting, harsh tone personally. Ingrid was actually remarkably calm and chilled out for a pending-transformation vampire. He wasn't sure if that was a half-human thing or not.

"It won't be that hard. Like I said, limited population and obsessive Slayers Guild, plus eternal boredom means vampires keep meticulous records just for something to do."

Shoving him aside to lie more comfortably on his bed, Ingrid stared up at the cobweb-coated ceiling of the tower, frowning.

"I sort of forgot about that part. What do you even _do_ for all eternity?"

Sitting cross-legged to take up less space and hopefully not fall off the bed entirely, Vlad tapped his fingers on his knees.

"Mostly start fights with other vampires, kill humans and try not to get staked. Figure out who to marry your kids off too for the best political gain. It's only the last fifty years or so vampires have actually started to even edge towards intergration within the human world. Living like... _this"_ he gestured broadly at the castle, sunlight pouring through the window "is not done in Transylvania, but the VHC don't concern themselves much with what someones doing elsewhere unless they break a lot of laws or one big one."

"VHC?"

"Vampire High Council. Our government, and the corruption there would put any breather politicians to shame. But they keep an eye out. Make sure accidents don't happen..."

"Like me?"

Vlad nodded, watching Ingrid actually laugh to herself a little bit.

"Well, it's nice to know I can flout the rules of two worlds now. What happens to me if I'm... found out?"

"Depends on who finds out, and ultimately who your father is. There are some the VHC are chomping to have an excuse to ash, but there are more... creative punishments. You're an abomination by our laws" Vlad picked at a loose thread on his bedspread, chewing on his words thoughtfully "so the punishment ranges from imprisonment and studying the abnormality, to torture and the like, all the way to death. At the barest minimum, exiled forever and a local Slayer tipped off to deal with you. But that's not an option I've ever heard being chosen. The entire family of the vampire who fathered you would probably be slain too."

Ingrid raised an eyebrow.

"Cheery."

"Actually, it sort of works in our favour."

"How?"

Ingrid sat up again, intrigued.

"Because the biggest hurdle after figuring out which Mirror you need is gaining access. The Blood Mirror is the heart of a clan, smash that and every transformed vampire is turned to ash. Every untransformed turned human. It binds the clan, it's the source of our powers. Takes a dozen vampires a month to layer the necessary alchemy into it, and it has to be bound to a family by blood. So, the clan in question will probably be protective of it."

"This doesn't sound promising."

"Yes, but the threat of being outed is far greater to them. Contractually oblige them to let you transform before getting out of their unlife, nobody has to find out. Self-preservation is the driving instinct for a vampire."

Ingrid nodded, their talks of her future living-dead status about the only time she was ever so quiet and contemplative. The only time Vlad really felt like he was actually in his league, knew what he was talking about. He unfolded his legs, planning to go show Ingrid what he meant about meticulous records.

"Dad's visiting his brother, and Renfield leaves if I tell him to. So the only one who'll know what we're reading."

Vlad didn't mention that his dad had specifically left with 'encouragement' to Vlad to 'seduce more breather girls'. His father could easily give him an eternal phobia of sex with such enormous cringe-factors. Ingrid eyed him oddly, then all but lunged at him and hauled Vlad back down, somehow seamlessly moving them so she was on top again. He got the feeling that would always be the case.

"I've been here over an hour and not _once_ have you mentioned your father wasn't home."

"In my defence, you didn't give me much time. And dad only left last night."

"Hm."

Was her short reply before Vlad was being kissed to incoherence yet again, embarrassingly hard and using what little brainpower he had left to remember not to rut against her like a needy beast. Ingrid normally left her hands to tugging his top out of the way to bite him, or sometimes twisting through his hair, but this time they moved down, nimble fingers undoing his belt and Vlad was utterly certain he never wanted to wake up from such a dream.

She groped him through his underwear, still more powerful than any time Vlad had ever touched himself. Ingrid watched his face, undoubtedly twisting into all sorts of embarrassing shapes and expressions as he panted, unable to stop from squirming and pushing against Ingrid's grip. Her eyes slid to his throat, undoubtedly drawn in by the rapid pace his blood was rushing through his body, and Vlad tipped his head in offering on instinct. Ingrid took the offer, the scrape of developing fang on still-tender skin combining with the feel of her hand squeezing, stroking, all but demanding Vlad fall to pieces beneath her.

He wasn't sure if it was that he got off on pain, or simply that he got off on _Ingrid,_ but either way the joint pressure of her teeth on his neck and her hand on his cock undid him completely, stamina a faded imagination and shame in its place as he came in his pants like the overexcited teenager he frankly was. She withdrew her hand when the fabric beneath grew wet, but her mouth kept sucking a harsh bruise on his throat until Vlad was shaking, jelly-like and unable to keep from whimpering as Ingrid finally let go.

"Go clean yourself up."

Her tone was unreadable, but Vlad got up to comply anyway, grabbing fresh pants from his drawer and shuffling off to the bathroom to wipe down and change, half-expecting Ingrid to have bailed on him again. So it was a pleasant surprise to see her still sat on his bed, looking up at him expectantly.

"Well, are we going reading or what?"

Shaking his head a little - he would never understand this girl, even with eternity to try, Vlad was convinced of it - Vlad stepped into slippers and gestured to the stairs.

"Let's go."

-YD-

 **I know the story is moving slowly but I am trying not to rush into a whole EVERYTHING AT ONCE thing. So hopefully, you forgive me.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Got season one of Young Dracula on while I write this, they were so little!**

 **And I realised someone has been rather missing from this fic. Shall be rectified.**

-YD-

"See? This is an entire volume dedicated to nomads from the years 1200 to 1250."

Ingrid rolled her eyes as Vlad showed her the book. She was less than enthralled, clearly.

"Not helpful to me right now is it?"

"Well it's proof I wasn't lying about the records. And thankfully, my father is obsessed with keeping tabs on everyone else."

"Why? Not that I'm... complaining. Ew. I actually meant that."

Her look of scandalised distaste made Vlad want to fall into fits of laughter, but he repressed it. Transformation looming, setting Ingrid off could have some quite explosive consequences. Composing himself after biting the inside of his cheek to keep quiet, Vlad sat down.

"Old age breeds paranoia. That and my dad has a habit of staking the neighbours."

"So how did you end up _here?_ "

"Angry peasant mob. Dad drained the village elders. It was a little too in-your-face for the locals to keep sweeping under the rug like the six hundred years of disappearances before. And back when he went hunting with my uncle? They could drain a hundred a night. Each. That was one of my bedtime stories as a kid."

"Gross."

"Indeed. Who is this young master Vlad?"

Ingrid just about fell out of her chair when the stuffed toy began talking, wheeling itself over to where the teenagers were sat amongst many an old tome.

"Zoltan! We've talked about this."

He'd once spoken in front of Mrs Branagh, and Robin had swiftly wheeled him away while Vlad babbled about pre-set phrases until the woman was distracted by a pot of tea to brew. Ingrid continued to stare at Zoltan like she was expecting the hallucination to disappear any minute.

"Your stuffed dog talks."

"Stuffed hell hound! If you don't mind" Vlad almost had to bite his fist to not laugh when Ingrid immediately scowled at Zoltan for correcting her so quickly "and yes, master Vlad, but as you were discussing vampirism with this breather, I did not think normal rules applied."

Ingrid reached out a pale hand and _poked_ Zoltan, as though checking he was really there.

"What the..."

"It's a... vampire thing. Alchemy. Death isn't the end. He's a pretty normal toy for a young vampire. One of the other clans I met, their son had an actual stuffed werewolf. His father had killed it. Cruel sort of trophy."

Shaking her head, Ingrid settled on ignoring Zoltan instead, suddenly riveted by a book on fifteenth century blood fueds.

"Zoltan, this is Ingrid. Friend from school."

"Who knows you are the spawn of Dracula?"

He couldn't tell Zoltan _too_ much, else it would just get back to his dad. Not that the stuffed hound and the prince of darkness had a _lot_ of conversations, but the risk was there.

"She's into vampires. I said I'd show her some stuff. Leave us for a bit and there's a squeaky bat in it for you."

"Ahhh. I see."

Zoltan gave him a very unsubtle wink, then wheeled himself away with Ingrid still eyeing him suspiciously.

"Weird."

"Right, right. Future member of the living dead club who can turn into a bat and explodes in sunlight is fine, but a talking stuffed toy is what's _weird?"_

"Shut up."

Vlad busied himself with a book - the likelihood they would find the exact thing they were looking for today was unlikely, but it was a start and Ingrid could peruse the heavier works on vampire physiology, the transformation and so on while he scoured the histories.

"Shapeshifting? Is that for real?"

Nodding, Vlad tried to drum that particular vampire lesson up, remembering Robin asking loudly if Vlad would be able to shift into a 'hot girl vampire'. That had raised a few eyebrows...

"Uh, sort of. You have to be taught it by someone who already can, but it's really dark, dark energy. Most of those who master the art go completely insane in the process. Most vampires are satisfied with bat form and smoke."

"Smoke?"

"Handy in a fight. Enemy has hands on you and poof! You're gone. Rematerialise behind them. Fangs. Neck. You get the picture."

Ingrid turned a page in her book, then looked back up at him.

"And these are all things that I can do?"

"I _think_ so. I don't see any reason why you shouldn't be. The transformation is vampire dominating human side, so it should be as absolute as any other. You might crave blood less or take longer to master your powers, I really don't know. But you _will_ be able to transform, and that should bring everything over with it."

"A lot of uncertainty."

"Dimidius information is scant, for obvious reason. I'm biting blind here, but I am reasonably confident you'll be fine once we figure out your clan."

Vlad knew Ingrid was trusting him, potentially with her entire future, but he dare not give her false hope. He got the feeling Ingrid would know if he was lying if he tried anyway. So a reasonable assurance was all he could offer, aside from the attempts to search for her father.

As he suspected, he had no luck with the books that day, but they had time and he had as much information as he would probably ever get for Ingrid's mothers anonymous tryst at a goth fesitval. Ingrid took off around mid-afternoon, silent and cool right up until she kissed him goodbye. It was brief and surprisingly chaste, undemanding, but Vlad's heart still turned over in his chest in a pleasant mix of joy and shock, watching Ingrid glare up at the sun before extending her parasol to protect herself from the bright orb above.

Heading back upstairs, Vlad lay back on his bed, mind still reeling from what had _happened_ that day. It was... wow. Definitely better than anything he could ever do alone. And... and... the fact it happened at all was just an enormous surprise. Ok, his mind was definitely going in circles, revolving around the way Ingrid kissed him, bit him, touched him.

Glancing to the calendar, he knew time was ticking, but there was a consistent level of hope. Maybe he ought to figure out where his dad had hidden it, and take Ingrid to go see the Blood Mirror.

-YD-

 **Hmm, I wonder if putting Ingrid in front of the Dracula Mirror is such a good idea Vladdy boyyyyy?**


	11. Chapter 11

**I just want you readers over here to know that - I know I don't always give my YD work the priority it deserves, and I know you guys are super damn patient with me, and I appreciate you guys so much for sticking with me for it!**

-YD-

Yawning in to his hand, Vlad shoved aside the tome that covered the movements of all the clans that started with 'A' over the last hundred years, noting the relatively fresh ink covering the last decade or so and feeling glad the books had been updated. Score one for Dracula paranoia.

"On to the B's I guess."

The amount of clans that had surnames ending in B was, thankfully, small. The C book wasn't much bigger, but the D-book? Huge. With so many clans taking monikers that had similar draconic tones like Dracula, there was a hefty chunk of them. Of course, the book could be half empty - space to fill out future history. Vlad lived in hope. Reading by candlelight, it was late into the night of a Saturday, and he kept coughing on the dust kicked up by book covers, but progress was progress, right? He was waiting on a letter back from the VHC to answer queries about vampire activity in the last twenty years in the United Kingdom, under guise of an extra credit project for his Blood Tests.

The fact there was no such thing probably never even occurred to the VHC, who sent back a carrier bat the next night saying his request was being processed. There was a lot of admin, so Vlad was expecting a bit of a wait, and passing the time with solo research. Ingrid thought he was mad as a box of frogs when he told her about carrier bats.

Vlad could not fail to notice that for all Ingrid's statement mercurial personality, the upcoming transformation wasn't actually having _that_ much of an effect on her mood. He'd expected her to be close to murder almost daily by March, but April loomed close and she was barely different to the previous year and a half he'd known her as a Stokely Grammar student. Musing that it might be down to the half-human side, Vlad shoved a bookmark in the B-tome, placed the book down at the side of his bed and accepted the defeat of needing sleep.

"Oh Vladdy! Look at this moon! Let us go out!"

Burying his head under his pillow with a groan, Vlad shook his head as his dad swooped in, flinging the window shutters open.

"Dad, go away!"

"But it's past midnight!"

Was it? No wonder Vlad was tired. He'd been reading for _hours._

"Exactly! I'm trying to sleep."

Bracing himself for another irate exchange that would only delay sleep further, Vlad could practically hear his dad filling up with hot air and wondered if staking his dad was too extreme a response.

"Honestly! It's like you don't even _want_ to embrace your vampirehood!"

Rubbing the bridge of his nose as he finally pulled his head out from under the pillow, Vlad sighed. How many times would they have this argument?

"I don't. And I have school! So I have to sleep. At night. If I miss school the local peasant mob will come after you!"

Blood and garlic, he just wanted to sleep...

"I thought your breather school was off on the weekend."

Damnit. Despite his tiredness, Vlad was struck with inspiration about how to at least make use of the time and his dad if he wasn't going to be allowed to _go to sleep._ Scrubbing a hand through his hair, Vlad stretched.

"Fine. I'll get up and look at the moon... _if_ you show me where the Blood Mirror is."

"Whatever for?"

"I'm your son and heir. Shouldn't I know where the heart of our clan is for if something happens to you?"

The 'son and heir' thing usually got him his way, if he played it right. And Vlad was determined to figure out where the Mirror was, so he could show it to Ingrid and she could understand more of what was coming. He knew that for all his attempts to explain everything, uncertainty lingered. No wonder, really. Ingrid had adjusted _hugely_ well, all things considered, in such a short space of time.

"Yes, yes. good point! Not that anything would ever happen to me! But yes, you are my heir. Come on then!"

Surprised and enthused by Vlad's sudden interest in vampiric things and being the Dracula heir, his dad was practically flapping on the spot as he waited for Vlad to climb out of bed, pulling his dressing gown on and stepping in to warm slippers, not wanting to traverse the cold stone floors of the castle barefoot. He was still exhausted, but there was a tingle of anticipation in getting answers and he followed his dad down from the tower, Renfield skittering away at a barked order from the Count when he dared ask where the father and son were going.

"Move that would you Vladdy?"

Frowning, Vlad looked at the coffin. It was one of the heavy stone ones in the crypt, although unlike the others it appeared to be built in to the ground of the castle. The stone lid was ridiculously heavy, and Vlad wanted to throw something at his dad for making the untransformed teenager do it instead of using his own superhuman strength. At least it turned out to be _going_ somewhere, rather than just containing a body.

More stairs. Long, winding hallways covered in dust, but the route itself was easy enough so long as Vlad didn't forget not to be diverted down a side corridor. Finally, they came to a big set of double doors.

"Through here, my son, is your future."

Resisting the urge to roll tired eyes, Vlad followed his dad through when the doors opened themselves dramatically. The Mirror was pretty big - having a foot on his dad, easy. Golden guardians stood watch either side, eyes opening in warning when they approached, as if knowing they were not supposed to be there, not yet. A gilded, detailed frame housed the large glass, which felt... warmer than Vlad expected when he touched it, fascinated despite himself that it could pass for extravagant but innocuous, yet held so many secrets and powers.

"Impressive, is it not?"

"Uh-huh. So, how does it work?"

"All in good time Vladdy, all in good time!"

As his dad launched in to a dramatic tale of him defending the Blood Mirror from a dust bunny or something, Vlad tuned him out, walking around the Mirror in a circle, the guardian statues blinking as he did so, suspicious.

"Just looking."

He told them, unsure if they were really aware but figuring it couldn't really hurt. They didn't claw his eyes out, so that was a plus. As was his father finally letting Vlad go back to bed, his avid need to make Vlad appreciate vampiric stuff sated by the visit to the Mirror. Collapsing to sleep, Vlad had a weird yet satisfying dream where the Mirror guardians chased his dad round in circles for hours.

Rising the next morning still a little tired, Vlad crammed cornflakes in his mouth en masse, then plonked down in front of the TV to watch mindless nonsense with his cup of tea before he'd return to ploughing through heavy vampiric tomes.

The knock on the castle door surprised him, as did Renfield asking who the person there was - he knew the Branaghs, and the only other visitor Vlad could think of was Ingrid, who did have a habit of just turning up unexpectedly.. But even then, Renfield would recognise her.

"Is Vlad here?"

"Whats it to you?"

Recognising the young voice, Vlad hastened over before Renfield scared the child off.

"George?"

"Oh, hey Vlad!"

Shooing Renfield away, Vlad leant against the door, bemused to see Ingrid's younger brother at the door for no currently explained reason.

"Hey. What can I do for you?"

"Well, my mum sent me to ask if you wanted to come over for tea today. Except it's sunday so sunday dinner is earlier. I think she knows you and Ingrid are friends but Ingrid won't admit it."

Biting back a laugh, Vlad weighed up his options.

"Uh. Sure, I guess. Just wait here while I go get some shoes."

Ingrid was probably going to threaten to disembowel him, but she did that to _someone_ on a daily basis at school. He was just giving her the opportunity on a weekend. Vlad could check on her and pretend it wasn't that he had such a ridiculous crush, and that Ingrid didn't sort of encourage it with kissing and touching and just... the way she was around him. Either way, he went. George was pleasant enough company, bounding along at Vlad's side as they walked down the long hill.

"So, what brought this on?"

"Mum knows Ingrid comes over here sometimes and she decided it's only fair if we have you over instead for a change."

Still confused, Vlad pretended not to know the way to the Giles home by heart, led in by George to see a not-terribly-surprised Ingrid, who he suspected had been consulted on the matter but had shown indifference in the outcome.

"Glad you could make it!"

"Thank you for the invitation, really."

Sally hugged him, which was strange but sort of nice, he guessed. Physical contact wasn't really a vampire thing, unless one counted sex and even then it seemed very much a byproduct of wanting the effects of intercourse, like orgasms or offspring or revenge.

"Can't have Ingrid just hiding away with you at the castle al the time, who knows what you might get up to!"

Memories of Ingrid pressing him down against his bed flashing before his eyes, Vlad _really_ hoped he wasn't blushing.

-YD-

 **It annoys me that the Blood Mirror changes design from S1+2 to S3+4+5, but as I liked the new one better I stick with that one. Actually, a _lot_ of continuity errors in Young Dracula annoy me, but that is neither here nor there.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Always always trying to catch up. Think Renfield has an alchemy spell for making more hours in the day?**

-YD-

"What are you doing here?"

"Your brother invited me. Well, your mother."

"You could have said no."

Ingrid didn't actually _look_ totally annoyed. More... confused. Or at least, the closest thing to confusion that dared display itself on Ingrid's face. Vlad was getting much better at reading her expressions.

"I could. But I wanted to meet your family."

"Why?"

"Curiousity."

Ingrid's brow quirked slightly, but before she could answer, her mother was calling over to them.

"What are you two whispering about?"

"Nothing mum. Are we eating?"

Sally rolled her eyes, fussing around Vlad in a way that reminded him very much of Mrs Branagh, and not at all of his own parents. He thanked her for the drink she put down in front of him, very aware of Ingrid's eyes on him. Since there was no real definition of what he and Ingrid were, despite the physicality when they were alone, Vlad was a little unsure how to act with her. It wasn't like they could talk vampires in depth.

Bats, he was watching Ingrid's final human days with her human family right now. That was... heady. And Ingrid gave no indications that time was running out, no massive push to make the most of it. They still had no idea what to do when it came to her post-transformation - clearly, as his father was (mostly) managing, a vampire _could_ live amongst breathers, with self control and mindful behaviour, but Ingrid would be a fresh new fang, with constant breather company and nobody to keep her hunger in check twenty four seven. There were options like stasis spray to dull the scent of blood, the sound of a heartbeat, but using that full time would require the human two being told what Ingrid was.

Telling Sally that her one night stand had been with a creature of the undead. Oh, and that Vlad was also one of those creatures.

There was little doubt such a thing could go catastrophically wrong.

"Vlad! Want to play football?"

Young George asked, looking hopefully over at Vlad while he held the ball in his outstretched arms. Standing, Vlad nodded.

"Sure, but rugby is my game so go easy on me yeah?"

"Where would the fun be in that?"

Oh, he was _definitely_ Ingrid's little brother.

"Good point."

Robin wasn't a fan of sports and his brothers were twice Vlad's size, so mucking about with sports for the fun of it was not something that happened to Vlad. Which meant that those few minutes just kicking a ball with the younger Giles sibling was a great deal of fun. Even if Ingrid laughed when he almost tripped.

"Hope you boys worked up an appetite!"

It wasn't fine dining, but given the bizarre offerings Vlad got from Renfield daily, things like chips and chicken nuggets and _vegetables_ were novelty and delicious. Seeing Ingrid eat at home was a different experience to seeing her eat at school, where she picked at her food and ate carefully rather than consume for enjoyment. Vlad didn't miss that she favoured the meat portions over the vegetables and carbohydrates, vampire hunger flickering in and out. That was likely permanent now, not something he expected to wane before her sixteenth birthday and certainly not after.

"Why are you so excited about food?"

Ingrid actually asked as they sat outside after lunch, George and Sally working on an artistic... something. Vlad didn't want to be rude by asking what it was.

"You've never seen what passes for biter cuisine have you?"

That earned him a faint sneer of disgust.

"Now you say that, I remember that I've seen your butler."

"Yeah. And he is uncommonly able to tolerate things no human should, especially when it comes to food."

If not for the incident with Renfield's father, Vlad wasn't sure he'd believe Renfield _was_ all human. Ingrid glanced over at her brother and mother, face tightening in thought.

"Do I tell them?"

"That's up to you. If you choose to and they don't take it well, I _can_ hypnotise it out of them. I would rather not though."

"You could _what_ it out of them? This is my family, not a party trick."

"No, no. It's a power. Is it not in the books I gave you?"

The look on Ingrid's face told Vlad she had not actually finished the books. Since she could get any information she wanted from him anyway, he supposed it made some sense that she hadn't opted to trawl through ancient tomes written by pretentious biters.

"There should be a chapter that mentions it in at least one of them. If not, I definitely have more at the castle. But it would work. I just don't like using powers on breathers."

"Is Vlad your boyfriend Ingrid?"

George seemed to appear from nowhere, wide grin on his face and Ingrid's resignation saying that he'd probably brought it up before. Vlad was saved coming up with an answer while panicking by Ingrid.

"No, now go away you little pest."

"She said no mom!"

Vlad did his best not to laugh. He was mostly successful. Ingrid could tell though, so he was probably in trouble. Given that he was quickly learning that he liked Ingrid being rough with him... Vlad didn't mind the idea of being in trouble _too_ much, though he was probably the only person who thought that. Ever. Everyone else probably prayed for a quick and merciful death.

Reluctant as he was to leave observing Ingrid in such a uniquely homely situation, Vlad knew he had to leave before it got dark, in case his dad came out looking for him or went off hunting the locals. So he bade the family farewell, heading home just as darkness fell and his dad overreacted as though Vlad had left an ominous note about becoming a vegan in a sunshine country like Australia.

"I had no idea where you were! Were you at least out causing trouble?"

"No! I was just out dad. It's what people do. Socialise. Without any mass murder!"

"Sounds ghastly."

Thankfully, Vlad was saved the drama of having to answer by a thunderous knock at the door. When opened, all that was there was a solitary bat. Slightly confused, Vlad winced at the irate shriek of said bat, who flapped in a circle before taking off. Puzzled, he eventually looked down and saw a thick letter stamped with the VHC logo.

"Awesome!"

"What is it Vladdy?"

"Oh, just some info I requested from the High Council. Nothing you need to worry about."

Hustling up to his room, Vlad eagerly tore the envelope open, a couple dozen sheets of parchment packed with information falling free. Well, it was more condensed than scouring every tome of movement watching downstairs... Turning on his bedside lamp and hunting for his bag of sweets, Vlad sighed. He'd better get started.

-YD-

 **Oh, I wonder what Vlad could learn!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Well, the number thirteen is lucky for some...**

 **PrimeMegalodon: Sort of, I just imagined Ingrid would feel more competitive with a sister than brother, what with her Queen Bee complex, and I wanted her and her little brother to be close. Not the way I want _Vlad_ and Ingrid to be, but you get the idea.**

-YD-

"Well? What did you find out?"

Ingrid could give the most _patient_ vampire whiplash, Vlad decided. A minute ago she'd been on top of him, biting kisses sucking the air from his still-working lungs. Next he knew, she'd spotted the stack of VHC papers on the side, began questioning him on them practically mid-kiss.

"I haven't finished yet. There's almost forty sheets of parchment full of info, and it's double sided. I only got it a day ago."

She rolled her eyes, but resumed kissing him. Ingrid was the embodiment of _mixed signals,_ and Vlad could only really hang on for the ride and hope to learn the ropes. Ingrid no longer bit him in irritation, so he seemed to be on the right lines. She still bit him when her teeth hurt, but Vlad had offered that service... probably. When she grew bored of that, Ingrid moved off of him and sat at the end of his bed, helping herself to his bag of sweets and occasionally frowning at the way her taste buds kept changing their mind.

"I've discounted a few pages entirely, based on what I've already read about the clans, but remember with immortality comes multiple generations. One clan living somewhere could mean twenty or thirty vampires over five or even ten generations. There's three sheets _alone_ on the Necros clan, but they moved out of the UK ten years before you were conceived. So luckily, I was able to move on from them."

"Are you on the list?"

"I wasn't born before you, so that would be quite a trick."

"I meant.. Dracula, right? The ultimate cliche in your surname at school."

Vlad nodded.

"Yeah. When the headmistress turned up here to try and explain to my dad, she was trying to ask for his surname and he got annoyed at being called 'Mr', said Count as his title and it... stuck. If it were Dracula on the register, Mr Van Helsing would already have slain me. Not that he hasn't tried."

"What is the deal with the wood dork and his overly attentive spawn?"

"Well, he's a slayer. A terrible one, but he carries a stake and hides bulbs of garlic in the classroom. My first day at school, which was also his, he set up a trap that accidentally snared the headmistress. I wish he'd got the sack but he passed it off as trying out a new anti-theft thing cus of the tools in his classroom, and school was letting out so she just put it down to him being eccentric."

"And Jonno?"

"Thinks that his dad is bonkers, that vampires don't exist and that my dad is just your average Romanian immigrant that lives in a castle and has a son named Vlad."

"Don't forget the cape."

"Yeah, but Jonno has never seen the cape. Or the coffin dad sleeps in. Or the spares in the crypt."

Swallowing her sweets down, Ingrid reached out and tapped the wood of his bedframe.

"If he staked you _now,_ it wouldn't kill you right?"

"I wouldn't explode into dust, no. But if he rammed a wooden point through my heart, I would be pretty dead."

"Does it have to be the heart?"

"Yep. Vampires who actively hunt slayers are covered in scars from missed stakings. The hardcore older ones even have neck wounds from when slaying was done by beheading."

"And that worked?"

"Not technically... we don't rely on oxygen to the brain, so it wouldn't automatically kill you. However, the next part of the process involved stuffing the body with garlic, and _that_ worked. And now they know stakes do the job, which are much easier to carry around than axes."

Somehow, it didn't surprise Vlad much to see Ingrid so caught up in the gory details. She was like that. She'd probably love sleeping in a coffin, if her bedroom had been any indicator. One of the black wooden structures down in the crypt wouldn't have looked out of place in the bedroom full of Goth aesthetics.

"Shame. It would be hilarious to have Van Hellstinks caught with an axe."

Vlad laughed, snagging himself a chocolate bar while Ingrid wasn't there to slap his hand away from his own sugar stash. Ever since the cavity incident and Renfield as a dentist, Vlad was religious about brushing his teeth now.

"How much of that stuff have you got left to go through now?"

"About half, but I'll get through that by the weekend. After that we'll have a pretty clear idea who the potenials are, and it shouldn't be many. A few more will probably be able to be cut off the list based on whether or not they would have even touched a breather, let alone left her alive afterwards. I swear, I will help you figure this out."

Ingrid eyed him with open suspicion, and Vlad immediately felt on guard.

"Why does this matter so much to you?"

"Because I don't want to be a vampire, and I've had _years_ to get used to the idea. I can't imagine going through it with barely any notice and so much uncertainty. Whatever I can do to make this easier for you, I will."

Still against the whole expressing feelings with words thing, Ingrid dragged him into a kiss that left Vlad's lips feeling bruised, but his heart was pounding and his blood flush with exhiliration. Sure, he'd help Ingrid even if she wasn't... like _this_ with him, but he couldn't deny it was one hell of a bonus.

-YD-

 **Oh no, they got distracted before Vlad could remember if Dracula was on the list. Who could have predicted that? Except me, obviously.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Had a total burn out, but I'm clawing my way back. Here is some chapter.**

-YD-

Tossing his pen down with a sigh of relief, Vlad dumped the papers down. He was _done!_ The list compiled. Narrowed down from all the vampires in the world to under a dozen clan titles. He'd already surreptituously confirmed with his father that the parent was unlikely to be a half-fang, as they had a harder time impregnating _anyone,_ let alone breathers. Something to do with genes... Vlad had stopped listening once he knew what he needed to, but pretended to hear his dad droning on to ensure he wasn't suspicious.

Stretching his arms above his head, Vlad felt the sting of fresher bites on his collarbone being pulled, but kept going until that satisfying _crack!_ sound echoed from his back, sighing happily in relief again as stiffness abated. Flopping down on his covers with a groan, Vlad rubbed a hand over his face, ignoring that he needed to tidy up the mess of papers and pens and kitkat wrappers before he could actually go to sleep. On the positive side, he had good news to give to Ingrid the next day. Three names he had already crossed off the list of vampires who'd been in the country about the right time, based on the knowledge they'd literally take a daylight stroll in Australian summertime before touching a breather for something other than food, and certainly wouldn't leave one alive even then.

So the total was under ten. Frowning, Vlad reached across and scribbled _Dracula_ off the list. Yes, his father had been in the country at that time, but he was all over the place back then, constantly splitting up from Magda and flapping off to another country for a few days so they could cool off and make up. Not that it was much different now, except his father stayed static in Stokely while Vlad's mother was the one to be back and forth, usually leaving destruction in her wake before she flew off somewhere there were designer clothing boutiques and plentiful breathers to bite. Wrinkling his nose in distaste, Vlad shuffled the papers together.

Yes, his father was in the right time frame, but given the questions he'd been asking and the fact Vlad knew his father was a horrible liar, even his fathers secret fascination for breathers was not cause for concern; if there was a _chance_ his father had sired a Dimidius child, Vlad suspected he'd know _something_ by now after all the investigating. So, Dracula scratched out, Vlad finished organising and finally settled down to sleep, midnight tolled before he stopped and he certainly wanted some rest before school the next morning.

"So this is it?"

"Yep."

Hidden against the side of the building with Vlad, Ingrid scanned the list; the names wouldn't mean much to her really, but her _clan_ was amongst the list somewhere.

"I see you scratched your name off."

"Well, aside from anything else... would you really want to find out we were half-siblings?"

He could practically see the cogs in her mind turning; their kisses and half-dressed fumbles more than likely there at the forefront.

"True. Although it would make finding this Mirror thing easier. You can leave now. I'll come see you later."

Vlad took the dismissal in stride; Ingrid was growing antsy about it all, and he didn't take it personally that she needed time. He left the list with her, glanced around and left her with her thoughts. He'd be seeing her later anyway, it seemed. And he already had the info laid out for the names on the list, ready to show her.

Hopefully there wasn't going to be a need to fly somewhere really remote, having to deal with cross-territory lines from possessive, irate vampires.

They didn't immediately get to the list when Ingrid came over; instead, Vlad found himself in the surreal and incredible position of feeling her cool skin under his fingers, her shirt discarded and the dress beneath unbuttoned. He wasn't certain he wasn't dreaming, but Ingrid was making the most maddeningly erotic sounds against his mouth, nails scraping down over his back and shoulder as she kissed him, bit at his bare collarbones. Little that resembled coherent thought really occurred in those moments, his mind utterly blank when Ingrid's hand slid under his waistband, slender fingers curling around a painfully hard erection.

He had to regain _some_ semblance of thought when Ingrid allowed him to touch her in return, clumsy fingers and wet sounds and _fuck_ she was criminally sensual like that, somehow responsive and reserved at the same time, like Vlad was really only scratching the surface until her guard fell at the final hurdle, gasping out her orgasm muffled against his mouth.

They cleaned themselves up individually, and Vlad was used to it not really being commented on after the fact. He didn't care all that much, really; Ingrid kept coming back, and the ache on his neck was a lasting reminder all by itself.

"Tell me about your mother."

Vlad raised an eyebrow. Was she really asking about something not technically related to her own impending vampirism?

"Uh, what about her?"

"Just... what's she like? I've only met you and your father, what are the women like in this species?"

Vlad winced; vampires weren't known for their front-thinking on gender equality, and his mother Magda was not a glowing example for anyone to follow unless their aim was soulless, evil cheater with a fur fetish.

"Well, my mother isn't a good place to start. She left us for a werewolf. Which, by the way, is forbidden by just about _every_ law there is."

Ingrid blinked for a second.

"Right..."

"And then there's the whole lying, cheating, multiple murder attempts. My parents never actually married, which makes me a dual heir and an illegitimate bastard at the same time. But mum turns up now and then, makes dad believe she's going to stay with him this time, gets whatever it is she came for in the first place and then off again."

Seeing that Ingrid was receptive to listening to him, Vlad continued to elaborate on the disastrous relationship his parents had, that he had with his mother.

"Really, I know I'm lucky. Dad might not approve of me wearing colours and liking sunshine, but even then he isn't plotting how to get rid of me as soon as possible. Magda was working on that from pregnancy."

After a little silence, Ingrid hummed to herself.

Then she started talking about her father. Not the vampire they were searching for. Her _dad,_ the one who'd raised her for years, who she'd thought _was_ her father until Vlad spotted her symptoms and threw a stake into her life. Unlife. Either or.

"You would have liked him. He loved camping and sunshine and all that... bright and happy stuff."

"But he supported you and your little gothic quirks?"

With a soft smile Vlad scarcely would have believed her capable of, Ingrid nodded her agreement.

"Yeah. He... he used to take me bat watching. And he built little coffin shaped boxes for me and George to paint together."

"Soon you'll be able to bat watch up close and personal. I wouldn't _recommend_ woodworking."

They never got to the list at all that evening, Vlad realised. Even though that was what she'd come over for. Still feeling very much thrown for a loop as he saw Ingrid down the slope once night had fallen, Vlad watched the faint glow of pale skin until it vanished between houses as she wound her way home.

Bats only knew what they were to each other, but Vlad was happy to roll with it for the time being.

He was _less_ happy when his dad caught him wide awake when the sky was dark, and insisted on alchemy practice. Even so, hands sorting rat tails and entrails, Vlad's mind was back in his room, on his bed, listening to Ingrid talk about when she used to go bat watching with her dad.

-YD-

 **Part of me really just wants to always write Vlad/Ingrid fluff stuff, but there's only so much of that you can do without it becoming hugely OOC. Hopefully I am striking the right balance.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Young Dracula - 'fangtastic' is a great word! And yeah, I will do more Vlad/Ingrid. After this, obviously!**

 **I am so glad even though YD is like, getting older and older and I feel alone in the fandom at times that this story still has readers and that y'all tell me you love it! Seriously, means so much to me!**

-YD-

"You are so dead!"

"Nooooo! Mum! Help!"

Vlad couldn't help laughing, even as he marvelled at the vaguely surreal situation where he found himself in Ingrid's house. Again. Either sensing something there, or hoping there was and encouraging it, Sally had invited Vlad over again at the school gates. Nobody seemed to have noticed, and George had been bouncing excitedly at their side, so it might just have looked like Vlad was befriending the young boy.

But there he was, in the living room, watching Ingrid play with her little brother. She was even _laughing._ Vlad wondered how many people actually got to see her like that, at ease with people she loved.

"What did you do this time George?"

"Wasn't me!"

"George?"

Vlad grinned as Sally bent down to retrieve her squirming son from Ingrid, who rolled her eyes but there was fondness writ across her face. He'd never know this sort of family for himself. Not unless he married someone who wanted to love and raise children into people, not shape spawn into creatures of the night. Not that Vlad considered it likely he'd get bloodbound anyway. Hardly any vamps were like him, and the ones that were got shipped off to boarding schools to be 'fixed' or left to be outcasts of society. He wasn't sure which sounded less appealing, although he supposed being an outcast wouldn't be _awful_ \- less time with his grandparents certainly sounded good.

"Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

Ingrid lifted herself from the floor to the sofa, graceful even in what should have been an ungainly ascent. Sally had taken George with her when she left to check on dinner, leaving Vlad and Ingrid alone. With a pointed look that Vlad didn't miss, and even though she wasn't looking Vlad reckoned Ingrid _knew_ the look was happening.

"All gooey. It's bad enough you actually turned up."

She might be a little thawed out when it was just them in his room, hidden away in the tower, but she was still _Ingrid_ and Vlad bit back a sigh, did his best not to feel slighted.

"If you didn't want me here, you would have said so. You'd have told your mother not to ask me here again. By all means, tell me to stop with the goo but don't pretend I'm here against your wishes. You're not that accomodating."

She rolled her eyes again, but didn't argue. George came dashing in, seeming unduly excited by Vlad's presence. Or maybe he was just that energetic at home and he'd been a little shyer last time? Vlad wasn't sure, but it made him smile all the same.

"Mum says lunch is ready, come get it!"

He caught Ingrid rubbing at her jaw before they headed out, felt his face grow warm at the thought of how she usually alleviated her vampire-related issues. Ingrid's face turned curious, head turning toward Vlad and he realised she could hear his pulse rising.

"What's your mum like Vlad?"

"George!"

Offering an innocent look to his mother, George shrugged and smiled.

"What?"

"It's fine. She uh, I don't know her that well. She and my father broke up when I was pretty small, she lives in... Paris, I think? I see her maybe once or twice a year."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

Vlad offered the boy a smile.

"It's fine. Nothing wrong with being curious George."

He giggled at the joke, biting into his sandwich. Whether Ingrid had said she was more into meat than carbs or Sally had simply picked up on what her daughter gravitated towards, she had something different to the rest of them and nobody commented, which made him smile inwardly. His father _always_ pointed out when Vlad was eating something unvampiric.

"Vlad, can I borrow you a second?"

"Uh, sure?"

Ingrid watched in confusion, then suspicion as her mother called Vlad out to the kitchen. He had a feeling he was about to get some kind of 'talk', and he was already panicking.

"Yes Mrs Giles?"

"Oh, Sally, please! I just... I wanted to thank you."

"Oh? What for?"

He shuffled uncomfortably from one foot to the other, unsure what she was aiming at.

"Ingrid. I know she can be... difficult, prickly. You must have the patience of a saint, I'm sure, but she seems... happier. So thank you."

His cheeks felt like they were on fire, flushing brightly as he looked down shyly.

"Oh. Uh. I don't know, my dad makes her look warm and cuddly. But you're welcome."

All he'd done really was tell Ingrid she was a vampire and then fall weak to her charms... nothing he had actually done _for_ Ingrid was something he could share with her mother, really. The VHC request, compiling vampire names and dates, explaining vampirism and the Blood Mirror.

Their clumsy, heated fumbles on his bed weren't exactly a conversation to be having with her mother either, now he thought about it. She undoubtedly suspected there was a budding romance, or at least a crush - according to Ingrid at least, it was all over Vlad's face. Although Sally probably ought to be used to male attention on her daughter. Ingrid certainly knew it was there wherever she went, boys falling over themselves just to walk in her shadow.

She was uncommonly beautiful, even for a vampire; Vlad doubted she'd notice much difference without the pheromones she now released. Helping her draw in prey...

Oh, how Vlad went so willingly.

"Vlad?"

"Sorry, I uh, space out sometimes."

"That's fine. Why don't you take this through when you go back?"

She handed Vlad a plate with cake on, chivvied him toward the door and he went, still bemused and probably still blushing. At least he had something sweet to distract George with, though Ingrid eyed him in a way that said yes, he was definitely still flushed. Vlad hid his face in the cake slice George handed him, waiting for his cheeks to cool off.

"Come on Vlad, I'll give you a lift home."

"Oh, thank you Mrs Giles."

Sally tutted, reiterated to call her Sally again, then very pointedly said she was heading out to the car, leaving Vlad and Ingrid alone as George got up to follow his mother.

"She's really not subtle at alll."

Vlad shrugged, unsure how to respond. Ingrid didn't give him much time to ponder, dragging him to her and kissing him soundly. He could only stare, dazed - it was surprising as anything that she'd done it where they could be caught by her family, and just generally left him reeling.

"Now get out of here. I'll come by tomorrow and we can do the list thing."

They'd gotten... _distracted_ the last couple of times Ingrid had come over to try and do the list. Vlad wondered if the same thing would happen the next time, but time was wearing thin after all. They probably _should_ get to work.

"Yeah. If my dad is sleeping, I'll show you our Blood Mirror. You should know what you're going to see. Any other vamp would have seen it a few times before they were sixteen."

She nodded, then gave him a playful shove.

"Go on. Shoo."

He smiled; it was basically affection from her now. Vlad went out and got into the car with Sally and George, ignoring the curious stares George was giving him. Well, right up until they were at the bottom of the hill up to the castle, when the little boy leant in.

"You have Ingrid's lipstick on your mouth."

Oh, bats. Vlad raised a guilty hand to his mouth, George in fits of giggles as Sally turned from the front, clearly fighting laughter herself.

"I uh..."

"It's fine. You're a nice boy, and Ingrid seems to like you."

"Yeah. Uh. She's not real comfortable with anyone else knowing, especially at school."

"I won't say anything, promise!"

Vlad smiled at the young boy.

"Thank you George. And thank you for the lift home Mrs- Sally."

"Close enough. Enjoy your evening Vlad."

"VLADIMIR!"

He winced; his dad must be up, and probably spotted the strange car from one of the towers. Either that or he'd noticed Vlad had sweets in his room again. He scurried from the car, bidding a hasty goodbye to the breathers.

"Bye Vlad!"

"Bye George."

Heading up the hill, Vlad heard the car pull away, pushing the door open and finding Count Dracula stood pale and imposing - or at least trying to be - in the main room, shutters closed against the late afternoon sun.

"And _where_ have you been? You reek of breather."

"I was... at a girls house."

There was no point lying about it. He still hadn't wiped Ingrid's lipstick from his face. After a few seconds, his fathers face changed.

"Ah, yes, you dark horse! I suppose that's better than just out enjoying the sunshine. Perhaps we should be introducing you to some young vampiresses."

Vlad almost choked.

 _Oh daddy dearest, you have no idea._

"Uh, maybe in a year or so. When I might have developed some early powers?"

"Hmm. Good point, good point."

While his father was pondering to himself, Vlad managed to slip away. He hoped Ingrid didn't hunt him down and kill him for accidentally outing their... whatever it was to her mother and brother. Even if it was her lipstick that got them caught. Somehow he didn't think she would happily share the blame.

-HTTYD-

 **Oooft, Sally and Countie almost saw each other. Wouldn't that be terrible...**


	16. Chapter 16

**I have had my heart crushed ruthlessly by How To Train Your Dragon 3 since the last chapter of this was done!**

 **Also, I am so glad for the love for Ingrid's breather family! I often feel like Sally and George didn't get enough love in S5, I'm glad they are getting it now!**

-YD-

"Another one off the list."

Vlad dragged his pen across the name, having just confirmed through a slightly peculiar report in a Slayers Newsletter (his father liked to collect them) that the two male vampires in question from that clan were in the country, but a couple of hundred miles away from Whitby that entire month, engaging in a turf war with a particularly crotchety group of Slayers.

It wasn't particularly easy to actually pay attention, since Ingrid was complaining it was hot and had shed her shirt, unbuttoned her dress. He supposed it _was_ a warm day, and her skin was ever-colder, but _still._ Half-naked Ingrid was not conducive to focusing attention elsehwere. And, judging by the way a smirk tugged the side of her mouth whenever she caught Vlad's eyes stray toward her, she damned well knew it.

"Is your dad still awake? I want to see this Blood Mirror."

Vlad strained his hearing - not as acute as when he became a full vampire, but still more than the average humans - and heard a crash down in the kitchen.

"Yeah. But if he's up this early" Vlad glanced at his watch "he'll go out hunting when it gets dark enough. So if you can wait that long, we can do that this evening. If not, then you'll just have to come over again, but earlier while he's still asleep."

With Sally's knowledge of some form of budding relationship between the two teens, she'd apparently tried to give Ingrid 'the talk', and Vlad had paid for it with a rather violent (although admittedly enjoyable) greeting when Ingrid got to the castle. Even so, she'd been more mindful about where she bit him now somebody was looking, so Vlad no longer had to worry about explaining the bruises pulsing low along his collarbone to anybody.

"What does Branagh think of you spending less time at his place now?"

Was Ingrid... making normal conversation? Her mood _must_ have improved.

"He did ask about it, but I blamed it on my dad demanding more Blood Test studying before my birthday or else I couldn't have a cake. After the dramatics of the last time, he understands that. And technically, I'm not lying. All this _has_ been good studying for the history section of the Test."

Ingrid nodded to herself, frowning as she lifted a Slayers Newsletter to her face and sniffed it.

"Garlic paper?"

"They spray it with garlic to deter vamps. Dad makes Renfield pick them up."

"Not much of a system."

Vlad shrugged.

"Modern Slayers are a strange mix of brilliant and idiots. They've invented weapons that harness pure UV energy, developed something as useful to them as argentalium - that's an alloy of silver and garlic, making it effective against biters and werewolves alike - and even set up their own website to buy and sell weapons. But a lot of their training is on paper only, and so there's a lot of bookworm types who can barely raise a stake to a biter being sent out with information vamps would love, and barely knowing how to use any of their high tech weaponry."

"So they don't even have to slay to qualify?"

Vlad shook his head.

"Nope. Although I heard that might change. Possibly because they realise how stupid it was to let so many out untrained. Recruitment is down, but that's partially down to the fact slaying is usually a family affair and the last generation didn't do a lot of surviving long enough to procreate. So if there's a surge, we'll pay for it in vampire population."

Ingrid cocked her head slightly, surveying Vlad strangely.

"What?"

"You... you talk about hating the prospect of becoming a vampire, but you know so much about it, you think it through a lot more than anyone who is completely against it _should."_

Vlad frowned.

"I want change. I don't want to grow up in the same war-based bloodbath every previous generation has done. The more I know, the better prepared I am for peace."

"Peace?"

"Yes. I want to find a way that vampires and brea- _humans_ can live together in peace. _You_ are proof that we're not so different."

Ingrid didn't look sold, but Vlad had gone on more than he intended to anyway. She wanted answers about her future change, not vampire politics.

He saw her off before his father had gone out hunting, the buzzing alert of her mobile phone a request from her mother to get home soon - didn't Ingrid know it wasn't safe to be outside at night? Vlad and she shared something of a laugh about that.

"My dad is the reason it's not safe. So, tomorrow?"

"I'll try and get over here earlier."

Ingrid kissed him goodbye, leaving Vlad a little dizzy before she slipped away into the evening, Vlad reluctantly heading up to his room again to work on Stokely Grammar homework for once. He kept accidentally writing vampire references that were scribbled out, his brain crammed full of them, until his work resembled a heavily corrected version of Robin's. Minus the bat doodles around the margins of the paper.

Shoving the essay aside as a bad job but knowing he'd hand it in anyway, Vlad laid down on his bed with a groan, Ingrid's scent seeming infused into his sheets, sticking to his skin like the bruises she left behind. Blood, she was addictive. Drawing in a few breaths, heavy with her perfume, her pheromones and that uniquely _Ingrid_ scent that was neither vampire nor human but something altogether different.

True to her word, Ingrid was over the next day before the sun was even at it's highest point, and Vlad knew his father had retired to his coffin only a couple of hours ago. So long as they dodged Renfield, there was nothing between them and the Blood Mirror.

"Come on, while the coast is clear."

Well, that was if Vlad didn't count Ingrid shoving him into the first room they found along the way, empty save for a couple of dusty tables and chairs - storage, spares for when the Count set fire to the furniture as he was want to do. He barely had time to process before her mouth was on his, her hand down his trousers. Vlad knew arousal magnified someones scent, even more so if said someone still had a pulse, and Ingrid had something of a fascination with it, cupping and squeezing him as she inhaled at his throat. It was strange and thrilling all at once, and though he was getting better Vlad still had the stamina of a teenage boy being groped by a walking wet dream.

Ingrid grimaced as she withdrew her hand, Vlad's flushed cheeks burning hotter seeing the mess and searching for something to wipe it on. Vlad volunteered his overshirt, skin so warmed he didn't feel he needed it even in the drafty lower corridors now. Tossing it aside to deal with later, Vlad led Ingrid down the various twists and turns, eventually feeling that ominous chill that meant they'd reached the lower levels of the castle.

"Hang on a sec, I want to check dad hasn't booby-trapped it since he showed it to me before."

"Are you not meant to see it or something?"

"He's paranoid about it. I don't really know why. I wouldn't smash it, it would kill him."

Vlad slipped through the doors, eyes flicking around the room as he circled the Mirror, satisfied nothing had been altered since he last saw it. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as a soft whisper seemed to hum through the air, though when Vlad turned, he saw nothing different. The castle played tricks sometimes, so he dismissed the feeling. Standing in front of the Mirror, Vlad observed his reflection, wondering how one day this ornate rectangle would change him so completely and whether or not he'd come out of it still _himself._ His reflection winked, seemed to shake its head before settling into his mirror image again.

Turning to the door, Vlad called out.

"Alright, you can come in."

-YD-

 **What could possibly go wrong...**


	17. Chapter 17

**I was watching Season One of Young Dracula earlier, and my gods they were such babies! I can't believe how tiny Vlad used to be!**

-YD-

His skin prickled with _something_ as Ingrid came in, but Vlad couldn't really be sure it wasn't that with nothing but dust in the air to compete, Ingrid's scent was more potent in the small, closed off room. Even so, he felt unsettled by something. Ingrid was wary, he could see in her face, standing to the side and staring up at the Mirror's frame. She circled the back of it first, as though checking Vlad hadn't hidden anything there.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know. It feels... incomplete. I can't explain why."

Frowning, Vlad shrugged.

"It's definitely our Blood Mirror."

Ingrid straightened up, moving around to the front of the glass at last and eyeing herself with trepidation in the reflection.

"Huh. I guess I expected to see... something different."

"Like what? Bat wings and bigger teeth?"

"I don't know! Just something."

She hummed, eyes roving the entire thing as she took a step closer.

"So, why is it I can't use this one again?"

"Blood Mirrors are bound to their clan. It contains and cultivates our vampire energy, gives an anchor to it. It's why half-fangs are never as powerful as born biters. These things can support a clan of two hundred as easily as a clan of twenty, and nobody fully understands _why._ But this Mirror will only work with Dracula blood... it can recognise a half-fang turned by a Dracula too, but we're not _really_ meant to use it for that because half-fangs are like second class citizens and don't _deserve_ a Blood Mirror. That's politics."

He waved a dismissive hand - vampire politics were _so boring_ \- and Ingrid didn't pick at it. Instead she turned back to the Mirror, edging closer and taking it all in. Vlad frowned, almost certain he'd seen something move in the corner of his eye but the guardians wouldn't move except for a Dracula, or to protect the Mirror. Ingrid wasn't threatening, so they had no need to-

"Whoa!"

Ingrid raised a hand to touch the glass, the surface rippling like disturbed water at her fingertips. She backed up immediately, turning to Vlad for an explanation.

"What the hell was that?"

"I... I don't know. That's never happened before."

He cocked his head, thinking, watching. The Mirror settled as soon as she moved away, not even a finger smudge on the glass let alone the ripples. Vlad hesitated to step closer, seeing the guardian statues blink for certain that time. Watching _him._ The whispering, the not-quite-there noises crawled over his neck like invisible spiders, snaking around him and Vlad felt his legs twitch, feet urged forward...

He yanked himself away with violent backsteps, shaking his head and the statues stilled at last. Ingrid looked at him oddly.

"What are you doing?"

"The Mirror is basically sentient, and I don't really trust it. Lets get out of here, I'll look for some books on Blood Mirrors and see if there is any sense to be made."

Because Vlad _really_ wanted to know what was going on. The Mirror shouldn't have even _noticed_ Ingrid, let alone rippled at her touch. It should have behaved like any other mirror. Reluctantly, with furtive glances back at it, Ingrid followed him out. Both jumped as the doors slammed behind them, Ingrid raising an eyebrow. Vlad shrugged.

"Vampires."

Even so, he was feeling unsettled. He made a beeline straight for the bookshelves, coughing on dust as he dug out the older tomes, written when the Blood Mirrors were first mastered, when someone first learned how to anchor the previously wild, untamed brutality of vampire powers. His own father was young by vampiric standards at six hundred, but his father Count Drakos had been almost two thousand when he was staked. So a lot of the heirloom books - mostly given to the heir, his dad - went back so very long ago. They were also largely _huge,_ written by vampires who underestimated how much there would be when they started, and ended up with mammoth blocks of knowledge that barely fit into their bindings. Some had been rebound, some had faded lettering and more still had questionable stains on the spines.

Hefting out the biggest and oldest, dust and dirt smudged down his front from how he had to hold it, Vlad dropped it on the table with an audible _thunk!_ before flipping open the cover, flicking past the four pages of acknowledgements and the one page of death threats at the start, finding the chapter list of contents.

"What are you looking for?"

"Blood Mirrors haven't changed in the last twenty five hundred years. These books are as accurate now as they were then. The only thing thats changed is the opulent framing and using more glass than silver, since vampires can't handle silver easily... but the magic, the _essence_ that created them in the first place? Those haven't changed. Even the guardian statues were commonplace at one time, but now you only get them if your clan has massacred enough other vampires that your Mirror needs guarding."

"Well, that tells me plenty about your dad."

Vlad snorted. The chapter he was looking for - _What To Do When Your Mirror Is Acting Up_ \- was toward the end, and rather than flip through every single page Vlad turned the book back-to-front, and went from the end backwards to find what he was looking for. The pages were heavy themselves, made of older materials that had to have every word, every letter almost painstakingly carved into it.

Finally, he found what he was looking for, scouring the pages and squinting - language had changed dramatically and Vlad's grasp of the old dialect was scant at best. They really needed translating. Several reams of treated leather told only of the burns and reactions associated with touching the old silver inpainted wooden frames, replaced now with lacquers containing human blood to negate the effects and give them a truly dark feel. A few more were comments on "if it doesn't work, it's not your kid" and how best to deal with an adulterous wife.

When he finally found what he was looking for, Vlad felt sick.

"Oh."

"What?"

Ingrid couldn't read a word of it, he knew, though she leant over anyway. Glancing around, Vlad located the nearest painted portrait.

"We need to see your mother."

-YD-

 **Uh-ohhhh**


	18. Chapter 18

**You would think, when you have a scene in mind from the START of the fic that it would be one of the quickest, easiest ones to write?**

 **You would be wrong.**

-YD-

Ingrid followed him as they headed toward her home, questions visibly on her tongue but she didn't ask, and Vlad was glad of it. He was still hoping that the book was wrong, that _he_ was wrong.

"Oh, hey kids. Wasn't expecting you back so early Ingrid."

"Wasn't my idea. What did you drag us down here for?"

Vlad swallowed thickly, doing his best not to turn and scan Ingrid for any familiar traits as he held out the portrait.

"I need to know if you recognise this picture."

Sally looked at him like he was bonkers, but she took the portrait from his shaky hand and looked down at it. It was a painting, since vampires didn't really photograph all that well, and it took her a minute to figure out the style of the artist, piece together the image.

"Oh!"

That sound was all the confirmation he needed, matching the flash of recognition in Sally's face.

"Where did you..."

"That's my father."

He didn't add the whole 'Count Dracula' bit. That would have been too much, he supposed. Sally looked up, eyes flicking between Vlad and Ingrid and he knew exactly what she was thinking; he was thinking the same things too.

" _This_ is your father?"

"Yep. And, if I'm reading you right, he's also..."

"Yes. Oh my god... how is this possible?"

"Somebody please tell me what is going on?"

Vlad turned to Ingrid, wincing as he tried to pick words that were less blunt and finding none.

"My dad... is your dad."

The book had been adamant that the glass of the Blood Mirror would not respond to a non-Dracula, and so Vlad had to be sure.

"Well that... what?"

Vlad shrugged, turned to Sally. She frowned, looked between them again.

"How do you... how did you know Ingrid's father wasn't George's father?"

He opted for an answer that didn't include 'vampirism'.

"Ingrid told me. I uh... I should go."

Now he knew, Vlad wanted to leave. He needed to process that all the time he'd been pressed under Ingrid, her mouth hungry on his, her teeth at his throat, the taste of her scent on his tongue... every time he'd had hands on her body, when he'd watched her come undone at his touch?

She'd been his _sister_ all along.

Ingrid was very clearly having similar thoughts. Sally probably assumed they'd done nothing more than kiss and hold hands shyly. Vlad found himself wishing that were true. He supposed it was lucky in a twisted sort of way that they hadn't gone _further._ Although he'd rather have lucked out and not been related to her to begin with, but he could hardly change _that_ now.

"Wait!"

Vlad halted, looking at Sally.

"I'd... like to see him. If thats possible. Perhaps tell him he has a daughter."

"Uh. I... I'll see when he's free. Dad keeps odd hours."

He left. Ingrid and her mother could probably do with a talk, and Vlad was going to go home and possibly stake his father. As he climbed the hill, sickness burning in the back of his throat, Vlad mused for a minute that at least now they knew which Mirror Ingrid would need for her sixteenth birthday. No travel or coverup required.

"Dad!"

Despite his limited, human-like strength, Vlad shoved the door and it slammed closed with a violent, castle-rattling shake. He stormed through to the main room, waiting. Yawning, in his day clothes and dressing gown and obviously just roused by Vlad. the Count eyed him.

"What's all this garlic-awful noise? Are we being attacked by slayers?"

"You had a baby with a breather!"

His father had never woken up so fast.

"How dare you-"

"Don't! Even! Try! All this time... ugh!"

Despite the clear sky, there was a rumble of thunder and lightning outside. Vlad stilled, trying to work out if that was him. No. Not possible. He was too young. Right?

His world didn't quite make sense at the moment.

"So I might have had a dalliance- wait a moment. A baby! Are you telling me that there's a Dracula dimidius out there?"

"Yes! She has been in this castle! My girlfriend is your daughter!"

"Your _what_?"

"Well, I suppose now she isn't for obvious reasons, but yes. Ingrid is approaching transformation age, and when I realised she was a Dimidius I tried to help her figure out who her father was, for the sake of the Blood Mirror she'd need. And all this time, it wasn't necessary. Her _father_ has been here all along!"

He was _angry._ Angry that his father had spent so long chiding Vlad about breathers, when he'd clearly gotten close for something other than a feed. Angry that he and Ingrid were... becoming something, at her glacial pace but he didn't care, because she was opening up to him.

Angry that he'd grown up lonely, never knowing he had a sibling.

And angry that girlfriend and sibling had to cross over in a way that said he could only have one. And it wasn't even his choice. He couldn't un-make Ingrid a Dracula. Which also brought to the fore that they would have to figure out what to do about Ingrid's family. Including his dad not outing them as vampires.

Blood, his brain hurt.

"Vladdy, you know we must get rid-"

"No! You did this. And once Ingrid transforms, nobody is going to know any different. You hurt her, I will ash you myself. This is your fault to begin with!"

There was a heavy, awkward silence broken only by Vlad's angry, huffing breaths and Renfield's occasional whimper of fear.

"So... how is Sally?"

"You remember her? I'm shocked."

The Count rolled his eyes, scoffing as he dramatically swooshed his dressing gown before lowering himself onto his throne.

"Of course I do! Whitby Goth Festival. Ah, she was lovely. She really could have passed for a vampire, ice white skin and all that goth makeup... I had no idea she had... I swear, Vladimir. I didn't know."

"I wish I could believe that."

-YD-

 **Ack! Writers block. Also Vlad is very angry and doesn't feel like story-telling. I am hoping he feels more cooperative next chapter.**


	19. Chapter 19

**I had a bad writers block combine with a bad mental health spell and so yeah I am struggling but HERE I AM doin ma best. Y'all are absolutely bomb for hanging on in there.**

-YD-

Ingrid was avoiding him.

Vlad didn't blame her. But that didn't mean he had to like it. Their pressing need to figure out her lineage in time for her birthday had faded now they knew - she'd been stood in front of the very Blood Mirror she needed already, knew exactly where she needed to go. It wasn't even going to be a long trip.

He continued to torture himself with wondering how she felt, what was going through her mind - and her families mind, at that, about discovering that the budding young couple were actually half-siblings. Sally had been _happy,_ glad someone had drawn Ingrid out of her shell just a little besides herself and young George. And now? Now Vlad was certain she probably felt he'd done more harm than good, even if it meant she now knew who her biological father was.

Of _all_ the places his long-lost half-sister could live... the backwater village that was barely more than a chip shop and a few families?

Even so, Vlad didn't resent that they _had_ met - if they hadn't, what would have happened to Ingrid when she turned sixteen? - but he resented that they had been related, that his father had screwed up something that made him happy years in advance. And the _hypocrisy_ of it all... he was forever telling Vlad to stay away from breathers, that all they were were portable drinks and the like. And he'd not only been physically intimate with a human - Vlad _highly_ doubted Sally was even the first - but had not so much as flashed a fang at her, let alone bit her. Sally had survived and gone on to birth the half-human, half-vampire child that grew up to be Ingrid Giles/Dracula.

Her birthday was growing ever-closer. And with them not talking, there was no way to figure out what the plan to deal with her family was - would she tell them? Or just attempt to navigate life without sunlight and avoiding their suspicions. Granted, that was much easier in Wales, where it wasn't exactly bright and sunny, but the UV slipped through the clouds so she would still be in danger.

His father was hovering, trying to work out how to do something to make Vlad stop looking at him like he wished he could dust him with a glare, but there was nothing he could do. The Count had not only cheated Vlad out of years at a time where he was forced to try and suppress his 'breather-loving' and pretend he was someone he wasn't, he'd also risked leaving a Dimidius - and somehow, Vlad doubted Ingrid was his only illegitimate offspring out there in the world - unknowing and a hazard to those around her. Not to mention Vlad never knowing he had a sibling, and while it wasn't specifically his fault Vlad had developed a crush, it was _his_ damned DNA that meant Ingrid pulled away after Vlad worked so hard to get her to open up, just a little.

Sighing deeply, Vlad piled up all the books on vampire clans and transformations; after so much time and research, it had all been for nothing. Save for those few moments when he and Ingrid were...

 _No._ Vlad couldn't think about that. She was his sister. Before had been a far more innocent time to think of her, but now he knew? Vlad had to keep his mind far cleaner. Easier said than done, but he was getting there.

Ingrid was probably already over it, he mused with only a _slight_ edge of bitterness.

School the following Monday was a bizarre experience; he couldn't tell Robin about what had happened, because that would out Ingrid as a vampire and he'd _never_ leave her alone. But Robin, slightly self-absorbed as he often was, could still tell something was up with Vlad. And so, when asked? He lied.

"Just Blood Test stuff. Dad has me hitting the books like my unlife depends on it."

"Well, with your dad, it sorta does. Cus he might kill you if you fail."

"Thanks Robin."

Clearly seeking to actually cheer his friend up, Robin even offered to go to Chess Club after school with him. Robin didn't even like Chess Club - nobody there challenged him and a few were downright rude to him because they were jealous - but he offered because he wanted to cheer Vlad up, and the thought meant as much, if not _more,_ than a physical gesture.

"Nah, not in the mood for chess. Alright if I hang out at yours? It'll be a relief just to be somewhere not full of cobwebs."

"Sure."

Vlad caught Ingrid glancing his way as they left school, but she looked away when she saw he'd spotted her and left him wondering if she'd even noticed he was off toward Robin's house instead. Not that she'd be coming over to see him any time soon, so what did it matter?

He intentionally stayed downstairs with the Branagh family, so Robin couldn't try to drag more out of him about his peculiar moods lately. It worked, and thanks to Mrs Branagh and her obsessive need to take care of him, he even got cake. And a lecture from Mr Branagh about plumbing, but even _that_ was incredibly preferable to actually thinking about the complicated things waiting for him beyond the walls of surburbia. Reluctantly letting them send him home as the sky started to darken, Vlad was greeted by the sight of his father awake and punishing Renfield for... something. Bats only knew what.

"Ah there you are Vladdy!"

"Don't. I'm still angry at you."

His icy tone stalled his father long enough for Vlad to escape up to his room, wondering humourlessly if his father was glad or annoyed Vlad now had more of an attitude toward him. He'd always wanted Vlad to be less 'nice' and 'pleasant', but seemed shocked whenever he actually acted that way.

Honestly, Vlad was already wondering how things were going to change; Ingrid was going to have to face him eventually, just for the sake of access to the Blood Mirror if nothing else. But that wouldn't be til her birthday, and that felt like an incredibly long time to let the weird, unresolved... _whatever_ it was, fester. Oh, he knew it would be awkward, but that didn't mean just outright avoidance was better.

Or was it?

Vlad found himself ambling back down to the Mirror, wondering if the weird experiences he'd had with it himself thus far would ever make more sense. He approached the room slowly, skin prickling, hairs on the back of his neck standing up. Only when he was stood right in front of the glass did the doors slam shut, and Vlad questioned whether going down there was a wise idea after all.

-YD-

 **Well, next chapter will have some Vlad stuff. Like, I think I mentioned Vlad is still the Chosen One at the start, but that sorta got forgotten by me getting distracted with the fun and the angst...**


	20. Chapter 20

**Oooft. 20 chapters in! Might be the longest M-story with no full on sex yet I have ever written.**

-YD-

The second the doors slammed shut behind him, Vlad was concerned. But the castle was a little bit alive and he knew that, so Vlad tried to push concern aside and do what he came in for. The Blood Mirror towered over him, just waiting to impose a lifetime of fanged misery upon the teenage boy. Vlad eyed his reflection - his _normal_ reflection - in the glass, unsure what he was actually expecting to see happen but somehow unable to convince himself to leave.

For a minute, nothing more happened.

Then it was subtle at first, the glass seeming to shift to a slightly more liquid state, as though flowing without truly moving. Curiousity got the better of Vlad and he almost reached to touch it, but movement in the corner of his eye stilled him; the guardians were never supposed to move. Only if the Mirror was under threat, or perhaps if somebody were trying to get out of transforming, though even that was rare - they were guards, not judges.

 _I can help you..._

The whisper seemed to come from all around him, settling against his prickling skin like icy fingers down the nape of his neck. Vlad shivered, looking around just in case but he was quite alone in there. His heart quickened, blood pounding in his ears a stark reminder he wasn't dead yet, didn't need to be in front of the Mirror for a long time yet.

But _Ingrid_ would be there soon.

And if the Mirror wasn't safe... he couldn't just leave it and hope she'd be alright. Swallowing thickly, Vlad shook off the strange prickles and moved, circling the frame to see if something was noticeably different. Nothing was. Except that he was there alone, and the air felt heavier than he remembered. Colder, too.

 _Come closer..._

Vlad knew he wasn't imagining it. There was a voice. It didn't seem to be coming from anywhere, and if he wasn't sure it was madness, Vlad would have said the whisper sounded like himself.

Unless his _reflection_ was talking to him?

There were rare cases of vampires transforming before they turned sixteen, but Vlad would have had more symptoms and definitely more fangs if that were happening. His tolerance for sun and garlic and pointy wood were fine. Human-like. His heart still beat.

Marshalling his nerve, Vlad reached out and touched the glass. His mirrored self copied, but when Vlad withdrew his hand from the rippling glass, his reflection did not. As though reaching out, trying to beckon Vlad closer, to touch the centre of the shimmering disturbance. He almost refused, but then remembered he was making sure Ingrid was safe.

As her brother now, Vlad guessed that was sort of his job, even if he was the younger.

He _felt_ something grab him from the inside, very real fingers gripping around his hand. There was a squeeze, a tug, and then Vlad was shoved back forcefully by the guardian statues until he stumbled and hit the ground hard. When he looked up, blinking tears from his eyes at the shock of hitting stone so heavily, Vlad saw the MIrror was blank again save for the identical image of himself slumped on the ground.

 _Not ready..._

The voice trailed off, air warming, doors opening. Vlad scrambled out of there as quick as his sore legs would carry him, stopping only when he was a few corridors away to lean against the wall, panting harshly.

What the _hell_ had just happened?

He'd been studying the Blood Mirror more than half the scholars he'd ever heard of these last few months, and there was never a single word about what Vlad just experienced, and almost nothing even remotely close. Just a few fragments here and there about moving reflections, a few more of the Mirror guardians holding somebody in place if they tried to run. There were even a few instances where the reflection itself had climbed _out_ of the Mirror, but that didn't seem to have happened to Vlad and _all_ those things had only happened to about-to-transform vampires.

Which Vlad was not. And moving reflections only happened in _normal_ mirrors as a rare occurrence.

Dragging a hand through his hair as his breathing finally began to even out, Vlad straightened up with a deep sigh. His life grew more confusing by the day, and showed no signs of slowing down in that department either. The library was glanced at, but Vlad knew he'd combed tome after tome searching for anything on Blood Mirrors and transforming and reflections, and so he knew he'd not find anything useful there.

He could write to the VHC again... but that might raise suspicion so soon after his last request. Vlad sighed again. There didn't seem to be an obvious answer. Overcome with a wave of tiredness, Vlad checked the time and was relieved to remember the late hour, detouring to the kitchen for portable food to eat before he dropped for the night and hoped for clarity come morning.

The dreams that haunted his sleep showed no signs of clarity though, only confusing whispers, flickering lights and a laugh that sat icily in his stomach still when Vlad woke. He yawned, rubbing at his face and shaking his head as though it would clear the weird dreams. Dragging himself out of bed, he felt worse than last night, exhausted despite rest - though he acknowledged the rest had been fitful and disturbed - and the trip simply to the bathroom left Vlad feeling all but completely wiped out.

Chloe had been coming down with a cold, but Vlad wasn't supposed to be able to get sick like that. Putting it down to the bad nights sleep, he yawned his way through getting dressed, clutching the bannister on the stairs for stability as he descended from the tower lest his lead-like legs betray him to gravity. Renfield was already creating disgusting things in the kitchen, but Vlad reached for his cornflakes, tilting the box over the bowl and pouring, pouring, pouring...

He jolted awake, picking cereal off his cheek and looking around to see if anybody had noticed. Unfortunately, they had - both his dad and Zoltan were in the room, eyeing him closely.

"Morning Vladdy! At last, some proper vampire behaviour!"

"W-what?"

"You are sleeping during the day Master Vlad, it is a very vampiric thing to do."

Shaking his head at Zoltan, Vlad stifled a yawn in his hand before cramming it full of dry cornflakes. They'd be a tough swallow, but better than risking his dad trying to check him for fangs or more yawning.

"I didn't sleep well last night, that's all. I'm going to school."

As he ambled, still feeling a bit hazy, toward the door - knowing full well he was early but Mrs Branagh would probably give him tea and toast if he had time - Vlad jumped as his father appeared next to him.

"Sweet dreams."

-YD-

 **Poor Vlad, nothing is going well for him right now!**


	21. Chapter 21

**Like, I know I don't give you guys the time and fics you deserve for how much you support me, but I do appreciate y'all and I love that I wasn't the only person to see the sheer fucking chemistry Vlad and Ingrid had.**

-YD-

He felt like his brain was swimming, having to shake himself repeatedly to stay awake just on the walk to the Branagh house. Vlad hoped nobody could see him doing his best impression of a zombie all the way down the hill.

"Vlad?"

Not remembering making it to the front door, Vlad woke to Mrs Branagh looming over him, a sore dent in his face in the shape of the doorbell. He yawned, rubbing his cheek as Mr Branagh appeared next to his wife.

"Tired? Go to bed earlier, that's my advice. Bye love."

He kissed his wife goodbye and headed past Vlad, who blinked blearily, trying in vain to remember the weird dream that lingered at the edge of his mind. It was hard to sort through when he was so damned _tired._ Surely it wasn't normal? He'd slept badly before and never felt so heavy headed. Plus his father had been oddly gleeful about Vlad's tiredness...

"Vlad? Hey! Vlad!"

Robin snapped his fingers in front of Vlad's face, jerking him out of his haze.

"Hey Robin."

"Are you ok Vlad?"

"Mm. Fine. Just... tired."

Robin eyed him warily, but was soon distracted by his mother handing him toast, offering Vlad some too. He turned it down, not sure he was even awake enough to chew and not choke on it. Every part of him felt fatigued, like all the energy had been siphoned out of him. What was going on?

Ingrid hadn't mentioned a spell of intense exhaustion. Was it a full vampire thing? A male thing? He was clueless, and absolutely not about to ask his father for help.

Speaking of Ingrid... yep, she was still avoiding him. As he expected, but still it stung a little. Robin dragged his half-asleep self to first class, and Vlad managed to put on his Woodwork apron without disaster. He needed to stay awake for Woodwork anyway. The teacher actively wanted to murder him, after all. _Stay... awake..._

Vlad jerked upright, very confused by what he saw. Everyone in the classroom, still there, but with capes and fangs and blood dripping down their faces. The wooden spoon on the board was now a coffin, and Vlad looked down to see his skin had paled further, as though all the sun exposure had been leeched from it.

"Oak is the traditional choice when building a coffin, isn't that right Vlad?"

He blinked, realised that Mr Van Helsing also had a cape on. He _really_ hoped that it was a dream.

"Vlad!"

Jerking upright again, Vlad glanced around, shaking with the confused adrenaline in his system - was there a fight or not? His eyes landed on Mr Van Helsing, phantom image of fangs and cape and coffins running through his mind.

"Vampire!"

It came out of his mouth before Vlad realised what he was saying, everyone looking at him funny and a few laughing. Robin hissed something in his ear, grabbed their stuff and dragged Vlad out of the classroom with a comment about taking him to the nurse aimed at the teacher. They detoured to the nearest bathroom, Vlad splashing cold water on his clammy face to try and shake the lingering exhaustion, at odds with the rapid beat of his heart thudding in his chest.

"What's going on?"

"I don't know. Weird dream. Can't stay awake."

Rubbing his eyes until he saw coloured spots, Vlad stared into the mirror, unsettled by the way his reflection winked at him. It could be a hallucination, but it was unlikely - sometimes they did that. It was how he'd realised what Ingrid was, indirectly.

What did his reflection know about what was going on?

"A bit of insomnia bringing down a vampire?"

"Ha ha. It's not like that. Everyone was a vampire! Even Mr Van Helsing!"

"Was I?"

Vlad rolled his eyes. Typical Robin.

"Yes."

He replied with exasperation, wiping his face dry with paper towels and scrubbing a hand through his hair, grimacing where it was damp with cold sweat. Pale and sickly looking, Vlad probably could have gotten sent home by the nurse if he wanted, but was a little concerned he'd keel over and fall asleep on the way home.

"You need to keep me awake."

"It's double maths next, you got no chance."

"Robin, I'm serious! I'm worried."

"About a little vampire dream? Vamp up Vlad, you'll be drinking the blood of innocent victims in a couple of years."

He sighed.

"Thanks Robin. Always make me feel better."

Despite the heavy sarcasm, Robin continued as though it were a genuine compliment.

"It's what I'm here for. Come on, let's get you a sugary drink from the dining hall first."

Well, that was something. Vlad went, the dinner lady taking one look at his pallid appearance before shoving a coke that didn't taste like it was filtered through a tombstone into his hand. He sat to drink while Robin chewed his way through a chocolate bar, feeling a _little_ more revitalised by the time he stood up when the bell rang.

At least, he thought he did. Vlad barely remembered bracing so he wouldn't crack his skull before he landed on the corridor floor.

"Vlad! Vlad!"

Opening his eyes, Vlad was immediately _very_ confused. He was outside? In a strange, oddly lit forest. Robin was stood nearby, dressed like the wise old man from some video game they'd played once. Was he dreaming? Vampires couldn't teleport, after all. And Vlad definitely remembered being at school.

Robin wasn't the only one dressed oddly. He recognised the feel of the leather he wore - sunproofed, for vampires who _had_ to skip through a second or two of UV rays. Speaking of UV...

"Ah!"

He yanked his hand back from a beam of sunlight, skin burning in a way it shouldn't for another couple of years. The blisters faded, skin smooth again in seconds but the fact it had happened at all was baffling. What the blood and garlic was going on?

"They are coming."

"Who?"

Vlad scrambled to his feet, aware his senses were sharper than ever. As were his teeth, strangely. Vlad ran his tongue over definite fangs, wondered if he was having some vivid hallucination of future vampirehood. If he was, he wanted it to end.

"Who's coming?"

Robin simply nodded quietly to the woods, where Vlad could hear rustling sounds, quick steps, the thrum of life - whoever was after him, they weren't vampires.

"Run!"

He ran before he even realised it, legs carrying him off in the opposite direction of the noises. Vlad tried to turn back, see who or what followed him but it cost him, thick rooted tree tripping him up. His hands went out to break his fall, something stabbing him in the palm and-

Vlad bolted up from the floor, looking down to see school uniform, over-buffed tiles and the glare of flourescent lights...

and his hand was bleeding.

-YD-

 **As you can probably guess I've borrowed some of Insomnia but its not gonna be the exact same!**


	22. Chapter 22

**PrimeMegalodon - I guess I'm just used to a more demanding, less forgiving audience! But I do really appreciate the readership/audience this story gets despite being such a small fandom for a finished show.**

-YD-

"Vlad! Vlad!"

Robin tried to help him up, the blood on his hand dripping to the floor as Vlad stood with his head still spinning. There were a few people crowded around, though nobody seemed to have called for help. Nice.

"W-what happened?"

"You uh, fainted I guess. Come on, lets get you to the nurse."

He was dragged to the nearest boys bathroom, thankfully empty so he could clean his hand and be quizzed by Robin.

"How'd you cut your hand?"

"I don't know, I was having this _really_ weird dream and then... I fell and something stabbed me and I woke up bleeding."

"So... your _dream_ cut your hand?"

Vlad nodded.

"It wasn't a regular dream. I was a vampire."

"Vlad, you _are_ a-"

"No, really! Sunlight burned me and everything was so loud all of a sudden, and then I woke up back here bleeding. I don't know what's happening to me."

"Maybe it's a part of the change?"

Vlad didn't remember anything about such vivid and _hazardous_ dreams when he was researching heavily, but he supposed that didn't make it _impossible._

He didn't want to ask his father, not after that gleeful smugness that morning and the fact Vlad was still _pissed_ at his dad. Which left Vlad with only one option. A very dangerous, likely-uncooperative option. He sighed, bunching paper up in his fist to stem the bleeding and left Robin staring after him, questions unanswered.

"Go away."

He tracked her down in the library, a place quiet enough that she was relatively un-harassed. Ingrid barely even glanced at him as she told him to leave, then stopped and looked back, sparing Vlad a second or two.

"You look horrible."

"Thanks. I just need to ask you something."

"No. Leave."

Apparently Vlad was not yet forgiven for the whole "I'm your brother" thing. He wasn't sure what to do about it either, since he was jarred by the situation himself. And with Ingrid so close to the change, they were going to have to deal with it somehow eventually.

"Just one question, then I'll leave."

Ingrid crossed her arms, audibly growled but looked back at him, face a clear _well go on then._

"Do you ever have... weird dreams?"

She glanced down, saw the bloodied tissue in his hand and grabbed his wrist.

"Ow!"

"It's just a scratch you baby."

Ingrid shoved his arm away, then turned around.

"You can go now."

"You didn't answer my question."

"No. No dreams. Now _leave._ "

Her icy tone left even Vlad certain he wanted to scarper, question answered and many more raised by her peculiar behaviour. Sighing to himself, Vlad went to the nurse to get something for his hand. She left him sat on the little bed in there, his sleepiness creeping back up no matter how much he tried to shake himself awake. He couldn't close his eyes. Couldn't... close...

 _"Run!"_

He opened his eyes to trees and dirt, his hand bloodied and muddy, knees and face bruised by the impact as he plucked itchy splinters from the palm of his hand. Brushing himself down, Vlad stumbled to his feet and looked around.

 _"Run!"_

Robin still stood there, confusingly urgent in the quiet air... until a stake whistled past Vlad's face so close he felt the base brush his cheek before the point buried itself in a tree,

He ran.

The Slayers were hot on his heels by the sounds of it, thundering along the ground behind him as he tried to run faster and faster, dodging the sunlight lest it burn him again. He tripped and stumbled and pushed on, hearing the never-ending pursuit. His lungs should be burning, but he didn't need breath. He stopped, turned back, saw a shadow in the trees and looked forward again, saw a river he should jump over.

"You cannot cross running water."

Bats! Robin had a point. But if this was a dream, Vlad ought to be making the rules. He tried anyway, backing up several steps for a running start. Quick pace, strong leap. He'd make it. As he heard the Slayers close in, Vlad jumped. Something invisble hit him, knocking him to the ground-

"Wake up!"

The impact to his cheek stunned Vlad into consciousness, blinking blearily and seeing the black-and-white shape of Robin hovering over him.

"Mr Branagh, you do not wake someone up by slapping them in the face!"

"He told me I had to wake him!"

The nurse shooed Robin off, coming to check on Vlad herself.

"Are you alright Vladimir?"

"Uh. Yeah. Fine."

He yawned, saw her give him the typical adult look.

"Get more rest. Do you want me to send you home early?"

Wow, she must _really_ think he was tired. Vlad shook his head, unsure if the pain in his face was from his dream or from Robin.

"No, I'm fine. I think I just need some water."

She watched him drink down the full glass, let him use the little bathroom in her office and then sent him on his way, Robin waiting outside for him - to get out of class, probably. The nurse had given him a note excusing him from PE, though he expected Mr Perkins to scoff at it all the same.

"I didn't hit you that'ard did I?"

Robin frowned at him, and when Vlad raised a hand to his cheek he felt it was sore, tender to the touch, as though he was feeling where it had hit the floor, then the barrier of running water, then Robin.

"Is it bruised?"

"Nah, not really. Maybe a bit."

Having a note too - likely forged - Robin was excused along with Vlad, and so they sat in the seats overlooking the field, sun on his face warming and pleasant though Vlad couldn't shake the dreams enough to not fear it burning and hurting him. Doodling in his sketchpad, Robin hummed to himself and Vlad found the tune began to lull him to sleep again. He fought it, but the exhaustion kept coming, dragging him back to sleep...

His eyes opened, saw the sky above had filled with storm clouds, an ominous feeling in the air as Vlad struggled to his feet, anxious not to be caught by the Slayers, He whipped around at the sound of a footstep, and saw that those following him were not Slayers after all. The ones who'd thrown the stake at him were...

"Vampires?"

-YD-

 **I don't think this one is even mega late, for a change! On a bit of a writing roll lets hope it keeps up.**


	23. Chapter 23

**Guest: I really hope you at least looked up Vlad and Ingrid, and if you can find Young Dracula to watch online (Youtube has it in some countries) I highly recommend it. Camp and funny and Vlad/Ingrid chemistry is amazing!**

-YD-

Vlad was fairly sure he was going mad. What were vampires doing in his dreams?

He struggled to his feet, bits of dirt and dead leaves falling from the leather he wore. The vampires surrounded him, trapped between the river and those who held stakes. His body knew he was in danger.

"What do you want?"

"Your ashes!"

"Sorry, kinda using them at the minute."

They advanced closer, though nobody seemed keen to be the first to strike. Vlad noticed stitching on the breast of every robe - V H C. So now he was having dreams that the Vampire High Council, the governing body of all vampires, wanted to slay him... because that was _totally_ normal, right? Vlad continued to panic, unsure which way to move and running out of options. He couldn't cross running water. Barging the vampires seemed stupid, given they were armed and apparently out for his dust.

Wait.

If he had a vampires vulnerabilities in here... maybe he had powers too.

Hoping for the best, Vlad focused on moving as fast as he could and jumped, managing to leap over the encroaching attack mob, landing several feet away in the blink of an eye. Well, that had worked, but now the vampires were turning and _they_ could probably flit too. So Vlad focused again and hurled himself as far away as he could, confused and exhilirated by the way his senses had adjusted, that he never hit trees or rocks as he moved so fast the rest of the world blurred.

"Find him!"

What were they so angry at him for? Vlad might not be the most vampiric of vampires, sure, but was he doing it badly enough the VHC had to get involved?

He ran, following some instinctual pull though he didn't know where he was being led. just knowing he was still being pursued. Robin was nowhere to be seen, which was probably good so Vlad didn't have to stop, but he really could have done with some kind of explanation as to why he was being stalked by murderous vampires. On and on his speed continued, never tiring, not even a need to stop and catch his breath! The pull that led him stopped all of a sudden, confusing Vlad.

"Almost there."

Robin reappeared, spoke two words and vanished again. Vlad frowned, then looked behind him before looking forward.

"I'm... home?"

Before Vlad could think more on it, there was a sharp impact to his already-sore face and he jerked awake, sunlight flooding his vision and near-silence in his ears. A scent that made his heart skitter in his chest filled his lungs when he drew in a breath, looking up to see Ingrid stood over him and the sports field empty. As was the chair next to him.

"Gee, thanks Robin."

"I sent him off."

"Uh. W-why?"

Ingrid shrugged, sweeping up the stairs to a row of seats that had shade over them to protect her ivory skin from the sun. Still coming to, Vlad tried to shake off the haze in his brain and turned around, kneeling on his seat rather than risk getting closer and spooking Ingrid.

 _She's your sister!_ Vlad tried to remind himself as he looked at her, captivated by the way her eyes reflected hints of sunlight amongst the shade.

"What's wrong with you? Everytime I see you, you're unconscious. It makes you less annoying, I suppose."

Vlad yawned, which prevented him from glaring all that much in response.

"Why do you care?"

"I don't, really. But if this is a vampire thing, I should know about it."

Oh. That was why she'd gotten rid of Robin. Biter questions.

"Don't think so."

He was _so tired._ Why was this exhaustion not lifting? Vlad wished he'd taken the invitation to go home early. He was fantasising about his bed.

"Well, you look dead enough that I needed to ask."

"Thanks Ingrid."

Despite having her answer, Ingrid had not moved yet. Vlad yawned again, already feeling the tiredness begin to creep over him anew and struggling to keep his eyes open, body heavy and eager to slump back into the seat for more sleep.

"Hey! Don't lose consciousness when I'm annoyed at you."

Before Vlad could respond, whether to ask why she was annoyed or how Ingrid thought he could control it, Vlad was asleep again.

He woke in the castle, not remembering climbing the hill. The ground was gritty with dust and dirt under his hands as Vlad pushed himself up, turning to look for the vampires who'd been following him. They were there, but none bore stakes any longer. Instead they all knelt in deference, heads bowed. Vlad frowned, turning to look at what had been an empty throne a moment ago.

In the throne sat a hooded figure, and while the face was hidden Vlad recognised the prominent staff and the Crown of Power, a thin steel band covered in millenia-old human bones and imbued with a powerful magic that few truly understood. It amplified, strengthened, recognised.

"The Grand High Vampire?"

At Vlad's voice, the hooded head lifted, falling back to reveal His Grandness himself, hair white with age and eyes sharp with time. Vlad bowed his head but dared not kneel in case he had to run again, heard the creak of bones aged eighteen hundred years as His Grandness rose from the throne.

"Vladimir Dracula."

Vlad looked up; how did he even know his name? Well, it _was_ a dream.

"Yeah?"

"I am the Grand High Vampire."

"Yep. Got that."

If this was real, Vlad would have been slain already for his attitude. So it was definitely a dream.

"Soon, it will be your task."

Vlad did a double take.

"Uh, what?"

The Grand High Vampire took a few steps toward him, and Vlad debated skittering back or standing his ground. Before he decided, His Grandness spoke again.

"You are the Chosen One."

-YD-

 **Not that I didn't appreciate Keith Lee Castle in that hilarious grey wig, but I thought I'd go with the real GHV from S2.**


	24. Chapter 24

**I don't know how this one kept escaping me on the 'need to update' list, but here we are!**

 **Also, I'd like to do more Vlad/Ingrid one shots but I sometimes feel like I've done them all? So if anyone has some outlandish or fun ways for these two to hook up, my inbox is open!**

-YD-

 _"You are the Chosen One."_

"I'm the what now?"

Vlad was stunned, perplexed by this increasingly vivid yet ludicrous hallucinogenic dream he was repeatedly falling in to.

"The Chosen One. You must take your rightful place on the throne, and lead the vampires out of the darkness."

While Vlad logically understood that was likely to be a metaphorical statement, his brain was still very very confused, and what came out of his mouth wasn't really a good response. One was not supposed to be sarcastic to the Grand High Vampire.

"Wouldn't that kill them all?"

He felt stupid as soon as he said it, and the hissing of the vampires behind him did little to assuage Vlad's dream-concerns. The Grand High Vampire, however, did not seem at all concerned and continued on as though he hadn't even spoken.

"The vampires have waited for so long, millenia upon millenia to find the Chosen One."

"And... you think thats me?"

If Vlad wasn't certain he was dreaming, he'd probably faint.

"You have no choice."

"Uh, well if it's all the same, I'll pass anyway. I don't even want to be a vampire! Let alone a... _special_ one."

Why was he arguing? It was a dream.

"You cannot escape your destiny. You _are_ the Chosen One. You must take your place."

"Nope, I'm good thanks."

Vlad wanted to wake up. The dream had made him feel very unsetlled. He turned away, and the vampires behind him had gone. Relieved, Vlad took a step. His Grandness was in front of him before Vlad could even blink, hissing and forcing him to take several steps back.

"Keep your job, I don't want it!"

That turned out to be the wrong thing to say, when there was a stake being raised to Vlad. Normally, he wouldn't be too concerned... but in the dreams so far he'd been basically a transformed vampire. And that meant the stake was deadly for him.

The Grand High Vampire lunged, and Vlad jumped out of the way on instinct - he'd forgotten he could flit in his dreams, and found himself several feet away, the other side of the table and felt the rush of the fight begin to work its way through him. He hated that he felt it, but survival had kicked in.

He gave chase, and Vlad moved again. They jumped and a stake slashed through the air, missing Vlad by millimetres before it impaled itself in the wall. His Grandness had another in hand in seconds, and he came for Vlad again. After several back and forths like that, he stopped, fanged smirk incredibly unsettling as he leant back, suddenly at ease. Vlad was worried.

"If you won't fight for yourself..." he snapped his fingers, and Vlad's blood turned to ice "maybe you'll fight for _her._ "

Vlad would be lying if he said he'd never dreamed about Ingrid. Even after finding out... but he couldn't control his dreams. What was he to do?

But he'd never dreamed of Ingrid, bound in fang-cuffs and facing down the end of a stake - he'd never dreamed her in danger. His dead heart kicked in his chest, urging him to protect her as Ingrid leant back, wary of the pointy wood as a vampire should be.

"Well? Do something!"

It was eerie how well his dream was imitating her. Vlad moved on pure instinct, flitting and landing hard between them, shoving at the Grand High Vampire until he flew backwards, hitting the far wall with a painful-sounding thud. Ingrid's cuffs burned his fingers to touch, but Vlad yanked them apart with little care or thought. If he was thinking, Vlad might have wondered how he was capable of breaking them to begin with. Hands smarting, he pushed her firmly toward the door.

"Get out of here!"

Even in his dreams, he wanted her safe. A wizened old hand gripped his shoulder, yanking Vlad around to face the stake again. Yelling at Ingrid to leave again, Vlad managed to grab hold of the Grand High Vampires wrist, twisting it in an attempt to dislodge the stake from his hand. They grappled, shoving, grunting and he felt wood scrape his cheek more than once. With what felt like the last of his strength, Vlad twisted the elder vampires arm and _pushed,_ backing away in shock when he realised he'd buried the stake in his chest.

"You will... succeed me..."

The Grand High Vampire crumbled to dust there in front of him, and when Vlad closed his eyes to blink he opened them to the real world again. Disorientated, he blinked. The real world was bright. And smelled like disinfectant. Vlad turned, jumped when he saw his father looming over him.

"Ah!"

"Vladdy! You're awake!"

"W-where am I?"

"Oh, some breather hospital. Apparently you fainted at school and they got very overdramatic."

Tutting, the nearby nurse came to check on Vlad. His head was still spinning a little, but Vlad realised that for the first time that... day? was it still the same day? Whatever day it was, Vlad realised he didn't feel bone-deep exhaustion any more.

"Well, you seem fine. I'll just go get the doctor to see what he thinks."

As soon as the nurse left, Count Dracula was leering over Vlad again. He spotted the sunproof leather his father had on, realised he had somehow been contacted and lured from the castle to be at Vlad's hospital bedside.

"Well? Are you the Chosen One?"

Vlad blinked. How...

"What?"

"Well, you were in the Dream World, weren't you?"

"The what world?"

"Oh, never mind. I'll explain when we get home."

His father fell silent as a doctor came to examine Vlad, who felt very uncomfortable with the whole thing. He looked down, saw marks on his hands where the cuffs had burned him though they weren't as serious as the dream-hurts had been.

"Well? Am I alright?"

"I can't see anything wrong... but after you fainted so many times, I'd like to keep you in overnight for observation."

"I'd rather go home."

"I can take care of my son!"

After some grumbling and arguing, Vlad was signed out against medical advice, feeling better once he was dressed and hydrated. It was refreshing not to feel so damn _tired._ It was dark outside, safer for his dad, as they climbed into the hearse that awaited in the hospital car park. As the hearse trundled up the hill, his father rambled on about the Dream World and the Chosen One, and Vlad kept shtum about it all.

It did explain his fathers smugness when Vlad was dozing off before. He _knew_ where Vlad was, what was happening to him to make him feel so awful.

"Oh! A carrier bat!"

Sure enough, there was a bat flapping around outside their castle door. It turned out to be an early delivery of the Transylvania Times, a popular vampire newspaper. Vlad had a very bad feeling about it. His dad took the rolled up paper, hit Renfield with it and told him to deal with the delivery bat.

Vlad followed his dad in, and saw exactly what his guts had been dreading splashed across the front page.

 ** _GRAND HIGH VAMPIRE SLAIN!_**

-YD-

 **Well now, whatever could have happened there...**


	25. Chapter 25

**I know I say it a lot, but bats alive, I appreciate you guys so much! I've had a lot of focus and attention problems lately (ADHD is fun) and just generally I am a basket case at best. So to everyone who sticks with me through this story, I love you dearly.**

-YD-

Vlad had to fight not to hyperventilate. Had he actually dream-slain the Grand High Vampire and it somehow passed over to the _real_ world?

"Dad, what's the Dream World?"

"Hm? Oh, yes. The Dream World is where vampires go when they sleep. Although not everybody seems to go there..." Vlad tried not to act too needy for information, but one of his fathers drifting tangents was not going to help him now. Thankfully, the Count got back on track "but every teenaged boy has a spell like yours, where the Dream World comes to them early. It is a vital part of our history, and it has been said through the ages that the Chosen One will be found that way."

Vlad frowned. Vampire history was weird.

"But... it's just that though right? Dreams?"

"Oh no! If you are slain in the Dream World, it's permanent."

His stomach twisted violently, and it was all Vlad could do not to vomit there and then.

"What about other vampires turning up there? I had dreams about... you! In the Dream World. What if I were to fight you there?"

"Why on earth would you fight me?!"

FIghting not to roll his eyes at his overdramatic father, Vlad shrugged.

"I don't. But just in case, what would happen?"

" _Technically,_ they aren't in your Dream. So it should not matter. Now go and get some proper rest, I must read more about this slaying of the Grand High Vampire."

Vlad took the excuse, fled up the stairs to his room and closed the door as though it could keep out all the twisted the door. He wasn't going to be certain until he saw the article his father was reading, but that wasn't likely to happen before morning. Vlad went for a shower, hoping to ease the tightness in his chest with hot water and failing miserably. At least it got the smell of hospitals and the feel of clammy sweat off him, pyjamas a touch more comforting than clothes as Vlad crawled into bed, terrified to sleep again.

What if he hurt someone else?

Or was he just going mad, and it was entirely unrelated?

His dad had said though... the Dream World was looking for the Chosen One. And that was what _his_ dream had been about. So did that mean he was? Or was it all just a vivid hallucination? He reached for the skin of his arm, pinched hard enough to leave a mark and still nothing happened. Well, his arm hurt, but that was to be expected. There were still pains in his wrist, multiple marks and aches from the slayers in his head.

Vlad tried and failed to fall asleep, too wired by the concerns twisting in his head and alleviated of the crushing exhaustion he'd started the day with. So he slid his feet into his slippers to protect against the castles chilled stone floor and gritty dirt scattered by Renfield, padding out and down the stairs with thoughts of a cup of tea. His father was nowhere to be seen, the newspaper left folded on his throne. Vlad grabbed it and headed to the kitchen, boiling water while he spread the paper out on the table.

His stomach sank with every line - no proof who did it, only an ash pile and the distinctive Crown of Power. Then lots of quotes of threats from the Vampire High Council, threatening vengeance before a small bit about the politics of choosing a new leader... though there were rules, rituals, a protocol to follow there. All things Vlad would eagerly be abstaining from, though as nobody had cause to suspect him (he hoped!) then Vlad ought to be able to stay absent all he liked.

Vlad hoped that prophecy was wrong about it all though. He didn't want to be cause for the 'bloodlines dropping like flies'...

"Vladdy! What are you doing up? At night! Finally feeling vampiric!"

His father turned up, a bloodied dead rabbit swinging from his hand and Vlad did his best not to look.

"No. Just getting some tea."

"Right, right. Well, if you change your mind, I'm happy to share!"

Stomach turning over, Vlad shook his head and poured the boiled water over a teabag, throwing sugar and milk in it as fast as he could before escaping his fathers messy midnight snack for the sanctuary of his bedroom again. His tea was a little weak for the rush, but Vlad wanted the warmth to soothe him, not the taste. He drank it slowly, staring at the window that exposed the night sky to him. It was a good view, little light pollution from sleepy Stokely to dull the stars.

He didn't have _time_ for this... Chosen One nonsense, nor the slaying of the Grand High Vampire. He had Ingrid on and off his case, about to transform and the discovery of their blood relation still a heavy weight in the air whenever they were anywhere near each other.

"Ughhhh!"

Vlad groaned in frustration, glad he'd put the empty cup aside before he flopped back dramatically to his bed, staring up as though the canopy could hold answers.

"Master Vlad? Is everything alright?"

"Sorry for waking you Zoltan."

"Is no problem. Can I help with anything young master?"

He shook his head, reaching out to pet the taxidermied hell hound.

"No, but thanks. Go back to sleep."

Vlad tried to stay awake, terrified of what might happen if he succumbed to slumber again but no strange dreams happened during his fitful rest, and he woke with no new injuries and only the residual sense of dread he'd fallen asleep with. Had the Dream thing gone now it had told him what it needed to?

He'd been told not to go to school the next day by the hospital, but Vlad couldn't deal with spending all day in the castle. Outside under the sunshine, at least nothing vampiric could touch him as he walked. He wasn't tired anymore, so whatever it was that had been plaguing him yesterday, it seemed to have passed - no dreams, no exhaustion. Just the panic of possibly murdering the most powerful vampire in the world, and apparently being fated to replace him.

No big deal at all.

-YD-

 **I couldn't work out how to work Ingrid's part into this chapter, but she shall return next!**


	26. Chapter 26

***laughs nervously* no no, I totally know what regular updates are... I know you guys tell me not to apologise, but I cannot help but enthuse about how much I appreciate you all! You keep me going, honestly.**

-YD-

Vlad walked until his legs ached, which was no small feat in a town as small and sleepy as Stokely, before finally heading back to the castle. He showered off the sweat he'd worked up, changed into some comfy (and _bright_ ) clothes before he headed downstairs to watch his dads TV with a snack. He didn't really like being off school, although he wasn't too disappointed about not having to deal with the awful tension between he and Ingrid.

He drank hot chocolate and tried not to look at the newspaper, tried not to imagine the uproar and the panic and the _politics_ of the death he'd apparently caused within his own mind. The injuries he'd sustained in the Dream World had faded, healed remarkably fast.

"What did you _do?_ "

The voice almost made him leap out of his skin, spinning in his seat so fast he all but fell out of it.

"Ingrid!"

"Yes, yes. Explain yourself."

"What am I explaining? What is it you think I did?"

His brain still kicking in, Vlad straightened up, hyper-aware of his half-sister looming over him with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face.

"It was some kind of hallucination, but it did _this_ to me."

Ingrid pulled up her sleeve, peeled off a thin gauze that revealed healing marks on her wrist. _Burn marks._ She'd been fang-cuffed in his dream.

"I... I didn't _do_ anything."

"They said you had to fight for me."

How much had she seen? Vlad had told her to _go,_ but then he'd been distracted and so she might not have done so before he woke up in the hospital bed. He probably should have paid more attention.

"What did you see?"

"Nothing, I... woke up?"

Vlad nodded, frowning in thought. How had his dreams dragged her in? Had his urge to protect her pushed Ingrid out again?

"It's very complicated, but the important thing is that it shouldn't happen again. Your burns should heal quickly, but I could find you something to put on them if you want."

Ingrid shook her head, wrapping the gauze back around her healing wrist. He hoped nobody caught sight and thought she'd been hurting herself.

"So, what was it?"

"Uh. Vampire... dream thing. But going by what my dad said and what I read, it should be done with. I don't know how or why you got pulled in to it, but the thing in question is definitely dealt with."

Ingrid quirked an eyebrow.

"Meaning?"

Vlad reached for the newspaper article, holding it out to her.

"That's who you saw. The Grand High Vampire."

"And he's... dead?"

"Well, we're all dead. But yeah, he's dust."

Being so close to Ingrid was jarring to say the least, after _missing her_ quite so much. Ever since the whole mess about their sharing a father had tumbled out, they'd ironically become more like strangers for people who probably should have been trying to get along anew as siblings. But instead, they were further back than before they'd began even speaking properly when he first noticed the signs of her impending vampirism.

"Dramatic. Does this have any impact on me?"

Vlad debated telling her, just to get it all off his chest, but his mind wouldn't let him.

"Nope. You'll still transform come May first."

It was _so close,_ and they still weren't really set on what was going to happen after. Ingrid wasn't going to be able to return to school and take her GCSEs, for one thing. And then there was her mother and young George to consider too.

"Still don't get why they said you had to fight for me."

Vlad shrugged.

"It was about tempting me to fight for something that matters, I guess. I haven't had long enough to really put down roots here in Stokely, so it was you or my dad, I guess."

"Not your mum?"

He snorted.

"Nooooo. Your mother is lovely, and could not be any more different to my mother even if she was a werewolf. Actually, my mum would like that."

Vlad shuddered, shoving the whole werewolf runaway saga out of his mind.

"Right. Well. I'm leaving now I have my answer."

He wanted her to stay, but didn't know what he could say to get her to. So Vlad let her go with a sigh, slumping against the castles front door when it was closed behind her again. Running a hand through his hair, Vlad dragged himself back through the castle, still not sure what to do about the whole Chosen One thing. Why him? Of every vampire in the entire world, they had to pick the most unhappy-about-it one to supposedly lead the vampires to a new age or something?

Unless they wanted a world of veggie vamps leaving humans alone...

And Vlad had never displayed anything particularly impressive, power-wise. The Chosen One was supposed to have untold power, and he wasn't even showing much of the possible pre-transformation flickers. Ingrid had shown more power than him, and she was a Dimidius!

When he went back to school, Robin was curious about his episode and his absence. Vlad did his best not to go into too much detail - sure, Robin would listen, but he also couldn't be trusted to keep his mouth shut, especially if Vlad mentioned Ingrid let alone the Grand High Vampire deal.

"So is it all over?"

"Seems that way. I've been sleeping normally and not dropping all over the place, and the hospital cleared me."

Their maths teacher droned on at the front, but Vlad barely heard any of it as his mind whirled, focus solely on the memories of his weird clash with His Grandness in his mind. Why _Ingrid?_ Yes, she mattered to him, but so did his dad - reluctantly, but mattering all the same. So what was it about Ingrid specifically? He'd not really _known_ her that long, though the whole time he had had been intense, physically and then emotionally.

So why her?

-YD-

 **I'm on hiatus from HTTYD fics and still somehow behind on everything send help I am not a good author haha.**


	27. Chapter 27

**It's oh so quiet and I am wishing for a thunderstorm cus its best YD writing background, but instead I put season one DVD on and am giggling at when they were babies!**

-YD-

"It's not going to hurt them, is it?"

"Not a bit. A minor headache, at most, but that's rare."

Ingrid frowned, but nodded. Being in her bedroom was strange, and Vlad was still very much trying to make sense of everything that had gone on over the last couple of weeks. But Ingrid had asked him about hypnotising her mother and human brother, because her birthday was very near and there were going to be some very obvious, hard-to-ignore signs once she stood before the Mirror. So cover was essential. Vlad was freely permitted access to her bedroom since Sally knew he was Ingrid's half brother, despite the whole 'dating' thing of before.

He was relieved to see Ingrid still visibly _caring_ about her breather family so close to transformation, and nothing had spontaneously caught fire in over a week.

"Anything in particular? Are you planning to still live _here_ when you've turned?"

"Where else am I living?"

"I already made dad promise you could move in to the castle if you wanted, since it was his roving fangs that started this whole thing in motion. If you want, staying here is your choice but I'll need to put in to their heads that setting up blackout blinds in your room and never cooking garlic bread is normal. You'll need to think about things like open curtains and stray splinters on a busted doorframe. And there's the fact you'll be hungry, and they will, at times, seem like a carton of juice on legs."

Ingrid wrinkled her nose.

"Gross. Put all that in there, you can change it right?"

"Yeah, I can if need be."

"If need be?"

"Messing with it too much can cause memory gaps, but a couple of tweaks will be fine, don't worry. Just not something to abuse, is all."

Nodding, Ingrid stretched out on her bed and looked up at the ceiling. Vlad wished he could offer more, make it all easier on her but there was only so much one could do to ease the "eternity as an undead bloodsucker" thing.

"Is it going to hurt?"

"The change? Mostly, it shouldn't. Except when your fangs come through. That can be pretty painful, but its over quickly and then you're done."

He saw Ingrid run her tongue over her teeth, obviously contemplating having a full set. Vlad looked back down at the paper in his lap, seeing all the arguments going on in the vampire world about where the coronation should be hosted, scrapping about who should be leading the Council in the meantime (because vampires hadn't organised for it, apparently...) and of course, who had the best claim to the Crown overall, as it would dictate the invite list for the coronation itself. As head of a clan, his father had a miniscule one that equalled every other vampire clan.

It also meant he was a possible candidate for host - if the VHC told a vampire they were hosting something, they did it. Vlad hoped not. There were two dozen other prime candidates, and all but one of them at least an ocean away from him. Where he liked large swathes of vampires, generally. Only Chieftain MacDonald up in Scotland was on the same island as the Draculas, and they were small and strange and kept to themselves, rather fond of feasting on the local wildlife rather than peasants most of the time.

A gentle knock at the door was followed by George peering around it, smiling at them both.

"Mum said dinners ready if you guys wanna come down."

"Thanks George."

"We'll be down in a minute."

"Ok."

George disappeared, and Ingrid looked to Vlad expectantly.

"It's best left til they've eaten, as most people fall asleep after so their mind can reshuffle. So we might as well go eat dinner."

Ingrid rolled her eyes, and Vlad suspected her indecisive taste buds at work made normal meals tricky, and so it was with great reluctance she followed him down. Dinner seemed to sit alright with her though, and Vlad savoured the properly cooked, normal meal very thoroughly. Dessert was sweet and satisfying to match, and Vlad helped clear up afterwards despite Sally's protests.

"Really, it's no trouble."

"You're a sweet boy Vlad."

He smiled. It was rare he heard such a compliment, except from Mrs Branagh.

"Thank you."

Taking a minute to organise his mind, make sure the right thoughts and 'memories' went in, Vlad tasked Ingrid with finding and getting rid of any of the garlic in the kitchen; so close to her transformation, she wouldn't struggle and 'allergy' was the easiest way to convince her mother not to bring garlic in to the house again.

"Anything else you can think of, now would be a good time."

She thought for a minute, but shook her head. Vlad left her garlic-hunting, heading through to where George and Sally had plopped down on the sofa to let dinner settle in their stomachs. Taking a few deep breaths, Vlad cleared his throat and focused. He'd managed the double-hypnosis on the Branaghs, so he knew he could do it.

"Everything alright Vlad?"

"Yep, fine..."

He trailed off, waiting for their eyes to turn glassy and blank before he started speaking the commands in, feeling each one 'take' before he moved on to the next. Mentally inventorying the necessary changes, he was satisfied and stepped back, snapping his fingers. Both of them yawned, rubbing their faces.

"Oh, Vlad, didn't see you th-" Sally cut off, letting out a deeper yawn and stretching "sorry, I've come over all drowsy..."

Within two minutes, they were both fast asleep. Ingrid came in, looked surprised.

"It worked?"

"It should have."

"How do I check?"

"Ask them about garlic bread tomorrow, see what they say? Or wait for your mum to buy you blackout blinds. If anythings off, let me know and I'll tweak it but I mastered this pretty fast, it should be fine. I'll... leave you to it. Give them an hour before you wake them, then you can send them to bed and they'll be back to normal in the morning."

He headed toward the door, sitting down to pull his shoes back on and grabbing his jacket from the hook. Ingrid hovered, silent.

"See you tomorrow."

Vlad said, though it felt lame as a goodbye but he didn't know what else to say. Ingrid opened and closed her mouth three times, then just stepped away and nodded. After he left. Vlad heard keys in the lock as Ingrid secured the home for the evening, and he began the walk back home. It wasn't yet night, but the moon could be seen against the faintest purple tinge over blue skies.

By the time he got back to the castle, his dad was up for the night, pacing about and harping on to himself about Dimidius children.

"Well, you know how to avoid that is to not see a breather and f-"

"Enough! I really thought she was one of us."

"Except for the heartbeat and body heat. Night dad."

Vlad headed past, flopped on his bed and stared out of the window to watch the sky grow darker from his tower.

Not long now.

-YD-

 **Vlad and Ingrid had a very different sibling relationship in season one...**


	28. Chapter 28

**Unlike usually where the reason for a delay is my abysmal mental health, this time around it was actually that I lost my notes for this story, and my memory is** ** _so_** **bad I struggled to rebuild the plan.**

 **Luckily, I found my notes! Apologies for the delay, hope this makes up for it.**

-YD-

When he saw Ingrid the next day, she confirmed all was well so far with the memory altering - her mother had already ordered some blackout blinds on the internet that morning, and when garlic bread was mentioned to George, he immediately began to lament that he couldn't have it, because of Ingrid's 'allergy'.

"All that's left now is your birthday, really."

"What... happens?"

"Come to the castle. Early, you won't be able to tolerate sunlight as soon as midnight passes. If you oversleep, cover yourself in that powerful sunblock I gave you, cover every bit of skin you can, use an umbrella and be _quick."_

Ingrid winced.

"Then what?"

"The castle bells will toll when the Mirror is ready for you. You won't miss it."

He'd heard it once when his dad made the bell angry... it was ear-splitting, and that was on the hearing of someone not-yet-transformed.

"Sounds like it would be easier to just be there before midnight."

Vlad took a minute to be sure he'd heard what he heard, tried not to visibly overreact.

"Uh. Sure, that's an option too. I've already had Renfield clear out one of the rooms lower down for you, since you won't want a room with a window if you _do_ decide it's safer or whatever to come live in the castle. You don't have to decide now."

Ingrid nodded silently, and then seemed to melt away. More than used to that, he continued on with his day, dodging the Van Helsings and ignoring Robin fawning over Ingrid for the sake of his sanity.

Halfway through English, Robin nudged him.

"Even _I'm_ paying more attention than you."

He whispered, dragging Vlad out of his thoughts so he could try and pretend he heard anything the teacher said, but his mind wandered again to worry, the impending transformation and coronation - some of the possible candidates for the new Grand High Vampire were... even worse than the previous, and the vampire world didn't need more bloodthirsty maniacs in charge.

The bell ringing was a welcome reprieve, from the droning and pressure of class at least. Vlad contemplated bunking the rest of the day off entirely, but their next class was Art and it was incredibly easy to get away with doing nothing in that class, especially with Robin distracting the teacher by drawing all sorts of 'horrible' things.

Vlad wasn't much of an artist, though he could draw passable shapes and diagrams, doodling absently on the pad in front of him rather than waste an entire canvas on his unfocused mind. Robin seemed to have every single colour of paint on the worktop next to him, which annoyed classmates and baffled Vlad - Robin scarcely used anything but black, red and maybe some grey.

All in all, Vlad was over the moon to get out of there at last bell, bidding a swift farewell to Robin before his friend could try to invite himself to the castle; he just didn't have the energy to entertain _and_ deal with his father that afternoon. Grabbing a snack from the kitchen, Vlad changed in his room and flopped on his bed, ignoring his homework in favour of waiting for the sky to darken so the Transylvanian newspaper delivery would arrive. Most vampires couldn't make the trip from Transylvania to the UK in less than an hour, but a few particularly speedy carrier bats could do it in half of that, and it was a well-paying job for those who could.

The paper arrived, but the squabbles over where and when and _who_ meant the Coronation still had no schedule. Well, that was another night Vlad could breathe a little easier.

About that, anyway.

Ingrid's transformation seemed to creep up out of nowhere, until her birthday was only _three days_ away and their relationship was still strained and awkward. She already had to stop showing up at Stokely Grammar, because she couldn't control the random flaring up of her powers, and Vlad had caught her glowing eyes and hungry prowl twice before he told her she had to go. Luckily, that had been part of the memory altering he'd done to her mother and brother, and the Headmistress believed Ingrid was leaving the country to go and live with her 'father' - the fact Ingrid's dad was deceased was forgotten by her, and the fact her biological father was Count Dracula never came up.

"Shame about Ingrid leaving, eh?"

"If you say so Robin."

Vlad tuned him out, thankful for the weekend break upcoming - in more ways than one, as Robin's family were off camping, which meant no worries of Robin turning up at the castle while they were dealing with impending vampirism. Of course, Vlad still had to deal with his father, who was increasingly paranoid about the thought of having a Dimidius around the place and increasingly annoying to Vlad, since he was the one who _made_ the Dimidius in the first place.

"Just flap off, would you? Once she transforms, nobody will be able to tell a thing. Now leave me alone!"

Scowling, the Count flitted off. Sighing heavily, Vlad went back to pretending to read a book, Zoltan snoring away at the end of the bed with his snout under the covers.

He realised on the Sunday afternoon that Ingrid hadn't actually said whether or not she was going to come over the night before or not, and it felt weird to go and ask. So Vlad waited, shooing Renfield away from sprinkling more dust and dirt on things - Ingrid liked goth, not filth. She'd been to the castle before, knew what Renfield was like, but that didn't mean she _liked_ it.

Vlad headed down to the one open shop for chocolate, something Ingrid liked regardless of the fluctuations in her taste, thinking she'd not be all that agreeable no matter what time she turned up. As the sky was turning a purplish-blue when he climbed the hill back up to the castle, he saw an unmistakeable figure outside the door.

"Ingrid?"

She turned, confused to see him behind her.

"Where were you?"

"Went to the shop. Coming in?"

Ingrid followed him in, looking around the castle interior with an unreadable expression. Vlad wondered if she was considering the potential of living there, but he wasn't going to ask.

"Dad's not up yet. Want a drink?"

"Where am I sleeping?"

Vlad blinked.

"Uh. My room, I guess. I have a spare sleeping set-up from when Robin stays over. Unless you want a coffin? There's spares in the crypt."

Retrieving drinks from the kitchen anyway, just in case, Vlad led her up the stairs, the view of dusk outside clear through his tower bedroom window. Ingrid dropped her bag on his bed and sat down in the chair nearby, watching him silently as Vlad climbed up onto his bed to sit down. He put his TV on for background noise, because sometimes there were awkward silences with Ingrid.

"Soooo... nervous?"

"Not really..." Ingrid trailed off, then sighed "maybe a little. This is still all new to me, I don't know what to expect. Yeah, I've done the reading and you've explained, but its still not something I can really compare to anything else."

Vlad nodded.

"Understandable. But a little over twelve hours from now, it'll all be over and I have no doubt you'll make a fine vampire."

Humming, Ingrid gave him her "well, of _course_ " smile. Her smile stayed when Vlad produced chocolate from his bag, and with that ice broken things weren't _quite_ so tense, though they were mostly quiet while watching TV and snacking.

Things got a bit more awkward when it came time to go to bed - an early night for an early morning - and Vlad felt a little childish in his bright blue pyjamas when he came out after changing in the bathroom. He dragged Robin's usual sleep stuff out of the cupboard while Ingrid went to change, shaking off the dust and a couple of spiders, which Zoltan wheeled himself off after despite having no chance of catching it.

The mattress was a little worn, but it was far better than stone floor and the duvet thick enough that Vlad even thought he might be a bit _too_ warm until the temperature dropped through the night. Either way, it was miles better than a coffin, and Ingrid would never have let him get away with suggesting _she_ take the spare.

"What did you tell your mom?"

He asked when Ingrid returned, trying to ignore the black silk pyjamas she had on. _Silk, **really?**_

"That I was going to bed, locked my door from the inside and climbed out when I heard her go to her room, cus she wouldn't be looking out the right way to see me. Easier than coming up with an excuse. George was already in bed, he's not well."

"He gonna be alright?"

Ingrid nodded.

"Yeah, just a bad cold."

He'd known they were related for long enough now that Vlad thought he shouldn't be thinking of all the times she'd been in his room before that discovery. That she'd been in his bed for different reasons. Burying his face in the pillow harder, Vlad bit back a sigh, about to try and settle down when he heard an all too familiar sound.

"What was _that?"_

 _"_ Dad. Stay here, I won't be long."

Sat up, hair soft around her shoulders, Ingrid frowned as Vlad got up, stepped into his slippers and yawned as he walked down the stairs.

"What's going on?"

His father was, rather bizarrely, practically skipping around the throne room, waving a big heft of parchment.

"We've been chosen Vladdy!"

"For... dance classes?"

"No, silly boy! To host the Coronation! Such an honour! Oh, that crown will be mine!"

Yanking the letter from his dad, Vlad read through it, groaning.

"Oh. _Greeeeat."_

At least it would be _after_ Ingrid transformed, where there would be no risk for discovery. He'd worry about the rest when he had slept. Throwing the parchment down, Vlad headed back to the tower, calling back to his dad that he was going to sleep and to stay out of his room.

Ingrid was still sat up, seemingly waiting for him to come back. Vlad assumed she wanted to know what was the cause of the commotion, but before he could ask, she was moving a little on the bed, looking at him strangely.

"What?"

"Get in."

Vlad blinked. Did he just hear that? Or was he hallucinating?

And yet, he found his body obeying her anyway. He'd never been very good at saying no to Ingrid.

-YD-

 **Might be the longest chapter yet... hopefully that will set a precedent. We'll see.**


	29. Chapter 29

**I opened the doc so many times to write this, and I'd just stare at it, words not coming out. It's been very frustrating (although I have been watching a LOT of Young Dracula to try and inspire me, which was admittedly fun).**

-YD-

Vlad waited, confused and lying awkwardly on the bed. Ingrid huffed, shifting both of them around until she was... if Vlad didn't know better, he'd call it _cuddling_ him. Lying there expecting to be punched or wake up from the surreal dream any moment, Vlad slowly relaxed when the low sound of breathing and her closed eyes suggested Ingrid had actually gone to sleep.

Lying there thinking, Vlad tried to work out what could have prompted it, before realising why she hadn't _said_ anything.

Ingrid was scared.

He had his suspicions before; her life was about to completely change, and she'd had far less time to adjust to the idea than he had. And while she'd fronted it well, even when their relationship had been rocked and thrown away to be replaced by something else when they discovered they were half siblings, Vlad supposed it wasn't surprising that she was jarred by it all.

Potentially saying goodbye to her mother and her brother for all eternity too... Vlad could stake his dad some days, but he'd definitely still feel some serious hurt by losing the crotchety old bat.

Vlad took a while to drift off, still half-certain he was dreaming and not keen on waking up from it if he was. It had been a while since he'd felt Ingrid against him, even through pyjamas and when they were no longer... intimate, and he shamefully committed it all to memory again. Her skin was cooler than he remembered it being, which wasn't actually that weird now he thought about it.

He woke very confused, sharp pain in his neck telling that it wasn't a dream but Ingrid was very definitely on top of him. It was achingly familiar and he really needed to stop her, but Ingrid was sucking at his neck hard enough to make him dizzy even if she hadn't broken skin, cold fingers twisting tightly in his hair to pull his head to the side, exposing more of his throat to hungry teeth. It was too much for him to take, especially when he was painfully hard and it was _Ingrid,_ and his body simply did not care that they should stop, all but forgotten they were siblings as Ingrid pressed tighter against him.

Vlad came with a pathetic, choked whimper, his twitching and the wet sensation against her thigh as his pyjamas grew damp seemed to jar Ingrid out of her stupor. She pushed up away from him, his neck wet and pulsing with pain and while it could have been saliva, Vlad wouldn't have been surprised to look and see blood.

She looked as unsure as him, and Vlad couldn't blame her when Ingrid vanished, moving almost as fast as she would after coming out of the Mirror room later. Oh bats, the transformation. He definitely needed to get cleaned up before they went downstairs; he didn't want to explain to his father why he smelled of Ingrid and sex when even his obtuse idiot of a dad knew Ingrid was his daughter, and so Vlad shouldn't be doing _anything_ like that with her anymore.

And Ingrid could sense the arousal on the air too, wrinkling her nose when she came back from the bathroom, fully dressed and not looking at him properly. Vlad grabbed clean clothes and went to get rid of the evidence, as it were, peeling off his soiled bottoms and rinsing off under the shower before he put on clothes for the day. Only then did he brave looking in the mirror, a stark purple mark covering his neck and there was definitely broken skin. Dabbing the breaks with a cleaning solution, Vlad hissed in pain. He grabbed a jumper in his room, hoping the hood would help mask the bite marks.

"You ready?"

Ingrid shrugged, pressing her hand to her chest with a thoughtful expression.

"No heartbeat? Yeah, that's normal. A bitten half-fang loses their pulse and stops needing to breathe even before their fangs come in. Come on."

Ingrid might not want to talk to him, but he wasn't going to cold shoulder her on that day of all days. When he got downstairs, he groaned hearing his father crowing on about the coronation of the Grand High Vampire, brain unhelpfully offering memories of those damned dreams and the whole 'chosen one' thing. Which then led to him thinking about how the dreams had picked _Ingrid,_ and how Ingrid had just...

Tearing his mind away, Vlad shoved dry cornflakes in his mouth for a distraction, Ingrid seeming unsure (a rare occurrence in itself) on what to do, standing off to the side and jumping with a hiss when a beam of sunlight crept through a crack in the window covers, burning her hand.

That, more than anything, seemed to really drive it home for her that she was actually a vampire. No heartbeat, no sunshine. Now all that was left...

The castle bell tolled, deafening to the point Ingrid covered her ears and winced in pain. Vlad sympathised, glaring at his dad until the Count acknowledged the ringing bell, which silenced it.

"Oh. Happy birthday, by the way."

It only properly occurred to him then, and Ingrid gave him an unreadable look before nodding stiffly.

"Are we doing this then?"

Washing down his cornflakes with what Vlad strongly suspected was a drink Renfield had made a few days ago, the taste bitter and a little off, Vlad coughed up a burp before he got up, leading Ingrid down the winding halls of the castle, ignoring cobwebs and dust and the occasional bit of floor that completely gave way and seemed to go right to the bottom of the large hill the castle was on... until they came to the door that seperated them from the Blood Mirror.

"How long will I be in there?"

"Anyones guess. Could be minutes, could be hours. I think the record is a week, but that seems to have been someone who didn't want to merge so it was probably more of a stalemate than a transformation."

Ingrid reached for the handle, then dropped her hand.

"Will you be here?"

Her voice was small, quiet, as though if he didn't hear it Vlad couldn't mock her nerves.

"If I'm not here when you come out, I've only gone as far as the loo."

Ingrid wrinkled her nose in distaste, but it seemed to be enough for her to reach for the door again. It didn't open, which made her frown deepen.

"What's going on?"

"Oh" Vlad took a few steps back "the knights recognised someone who shouldn't be there. Try again."

Sure enough, with Vlad not close enough to interfere, the door swung open at last. Ingrid stepped through, and the door slammed shut behind her. Vlad walked a few steps to the side, boosting himself up on to the rocky seating area that he was pretty sure was just an old coffin stand shoved against the wall, and settled in for the duration.

-YD-

 **Sorry, shorter chapter, but it's alllll coming together, I promise.**


	30. Chapter 30

**I actually completed a fic at last recently (it was a HTTYD fic but still) and it had me sitting to look at this one in terms of how much of the fic is done. I'd say we're about halfway through, but I'm hoping it won't take me another thirty chapters to finish... we'll see.**

-YD-

Vlad had lost all feeling in his legs by the time Ingrid came out _six hours_ later, even though he'd gotten up and moved for the toilet and snacks now and then. There hadn't been much noise, but that didn't mean anything other than Ingrid hadn't screamed. She watched as he got up awkwardly, legs not too keen on supporting his weight.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Legs gone to sleep. How was it?"

Ingrid shrugged, and Vlad tamped down on the jolt in his gut when she opened her mouth to reveal her brand new fangs, running her tongue over them like every other vampire would.

"Went pretty quick."

"You think?"

Ingrid frowned.

"How long was I in there?"

"About six hours. Not _that_ quick."

"Huh. Didn't feel that long in there."

Vlad made a mental note to leave a stop watch when he eventually went in, out of curiousity for how long it would take versus how long he felt he was in there. Ingrid was obviously still adjusting to her changed body, but Vlad knew she'd be thirsty very soon and had prepared for that eventuality.

"Here, you'll want this."

His dad would probably complain about Vlad stealing from his blood supply, but he was just going to have to get over it. Ingrid needed to feed.

She took the bottle, and Vlad saw that flicker of hesitation. Knowing she'd want blood post-transformation and actually facing the prospect were two very different things.

"Your body has changed, and so have your taste buds. It might not be your favourite blood type, but you won't hate it."

When Ingrid opened the bottle, Vlad felt that strange mix of revulsion and buried hunger, his body aware of the future need for the substance but his mind rebelling against the scent, the _idea_ of drinking blood.

Ingrid had no such issue, one sip turning in to a rather graceless gulping as the taste proved alluring, Ingrid letting out sounds of pleasure as she drained the bottle dry without stopping for... well, she didn't _need_ to stop for breath, Vlad mused.

"Better?"

"Yes. What is this?"

"Type A. Actually, it's your blood type. Or was."

"How do you know that?"

Vlad shrugged.

"Scent. Each blood type and rhesus factor smells different. And tastes different, apparently. Most vamps have a favourite, but we don't usually have a proper blood type. But you had a human parent, so you do. Or did."

Ingrid inclined her head, thinking.

"So what would you come up as if a breather hospital ran your blood?"

"Uh, probably some rare blood type they have never seen before and we have to move... or maybe just whatever the most common is. Vampires don't smell like blood types, even before we transform. We smell sort of vampiric, with just a hint of life before the Mirror."

She leant in toward him a bit and sniffed, then shrugged.

"Now what?"

"Now..." Vlad held up his hand, leaning toward the door upstairs "do you hear something?"

Her hearing would be better than his by far now. Ingrid strained her hearing, nodding.

"The door?"

"I'm not expecting anyone, and I told Robin I couldn't see him today because I had no idea how to explain... _this"_ Vlad gestured between Ingrid and the door to the Mirror room "so yeah, no idea. We better go up and make sure dad isn't killing a local."

Ingrid overshot it a bit and almost flitted herself into the wall, and Vlad advised her not to try that until the night, when she'd have been able to practice outside with less things to run in to. They had plenty of space with the great big hill after all.

"Mum!"

"Ingrid! Happy birthday!"

Young George ran right over and hugged his surprised sister, the Count hovering in the background looking absolutely bewildered.

"Oh, yeah. Thanks."

Vlad hadn't even thought of that; they'd been focused pretty exclusively on just getting Ingrid transformed so she couldn't be found out, not on celebrating birthdays. And neither looked confused or questioning having to come to Ingrid at the castle, so the memory alterations Vlad made seemed to still be sticking.

"Mom made a cake! I taste tested it, it's not a disaster this year."

"George!"

He giggled, hugging Ingrid again.

"You're cold. I guess this castle is kinda drafty though. Come on, presents!"

Vlad hung back, letting Ingrid have her moment with her family but keeping an eye on the Count, to make sure he didn't get any ideas. Sally seemed to have sort of passively accepted the mans presence, which at least avoided the awkward conversation of two people meeting sixteen years and nine months after an ill-advised two-night stand that led to the conception of an illegal half-breed.

And, because his father was predictable and an _awful_ liar, Vlad knew he carried his 'breather torch' for Sally still by the way he watched her, no matter how he denied it. George did head over to bring Vlad cake with a beaming smile, eyes lingering for a second on his neck but Vlad drew his shoulders up to cover himself with his jumper and George soon returned to Ingrid, practically bouncing in his seat. Ingrid was visibly uncomfortable, and Vlad wished he could smuggle her blood so she wouldn't be thirsty with her brother and mother.

"Do we have to go?"

"George, it's getting late. I'm sure we'll see Ingrid again soon."

"Yeah?"

He turned to Ingrid, eyes wide and pleading. She nodded, stroking his hair as he hugged her.

"Yeah."

"Ok then, I guess we can go now."

Ingrid watched them go, face unreadable as she stopped short of letting the final evening sun touch her.

"How am I meant to see them again? I can't even go outside."

"You can when it's dark. We live in _Wales,_ for evils sake. It's not known for long summers."

"I'm not exactly safe to be around."

"You'll learn. And we'll keep you fed before you see them, assuming you want to see them."

Ingrid shrugged, glancing to the cracks at the edge of the window covering, where it was not yet advisable for vampires to roam outdoors.

"I don't know."

Vlad left her to it, eating more cake before Zoltan got eyes on it and ate too much. His dad wouldn't touch it, but Renfield was probably going to finish it. He ate pretty much anything, and Vlad remembered he'd stolen sweets from Vlad's stash before.

Quite aware he was focusing on non-important things to distract himself from the _weird_ day he had had so far, starting with Ingrid on top of him and ending with an impromptu party... Vlad put down the next piece of cake, brushing crumbs off his lap and looking around for Ingrid.

"Can I go outside yet?"

"Uh... give it a few minutes. Get a drink, don't want you running off to murder somebody."

"Spoilsport."

Vlad couldn't help but smile; Ingrid hadn't changed _that_ much.

-YD-

 **I didn't write anything for an entire week and I wish I could say it left me well rested and full of ideas, but it did not, so here is me trying to get back into it.**


	31. Chapter 31

**Wow, ok, so Frozen 2 happened and I've fallen behind on everything, but this writer is on a rollllll so lets do this.**

-YD-

Almost the second the sky had begun to darken, Ingrid sent Vlad out to make sure there wasn't a hint of UV light left. He called back that it was safe, and found himself biting so hard on his cheek he tasted blood a few seconds later, because Ingrid would _definitely_ have killed him for laughing when she walked into the castle wall.

"I thought vampires could walk through walls."

Ingrid groused when she'd come through the front door, having to open and close it rather than just float through.

"They can, but you have to focus. This is all new, don't try to do everything your first night or you'll start trying to juggle stakes and die of a splinter."

She raised an eyebrow at his comment, then rolled her eyes, tutted and looked around.

"I'm feeling distinctly underwhelmed by this vampirism so far."

"Ok. Well, now you have some space, try and flit again. That's the speed thing."

Ingrid nodded, mostly to herself, then seemed to brace for impact before taking one very dramatic step.

"Well, that didn't work."

"Of course it didn't! Uh, girls..."

"Dad!"

The Count shrugged unapologetically, floating down in a very clear attempt to show off his own control of powers. Given that he had _six centuries_ of practice on Ingrid, Vlad thought he was being unfairly critical.

"Now, let me show you how it's done!"

Ingrid leant back, face a picture of bewilderment. Vlad couldn't blame her; the Count had hardly gone for family bonding experiences, mostly complaining about Ingrid being around to out him as a breather-breeder until Vlad told him to shut up.

Their father flitted off into the night, and didn't come back. Ingrid looked to Vlad for an explanation.

"He's just... like that. You get used to blocking him out."

 _"I heard that!"_

His voice echoed back, and Vlad pulled a face up at the night sky in retaliation. Ingrid snickered into her hand, shaking her head.

"Weirdos. Right. How do I do this?"

"Close your eyes" Ingrid eyed him suspiciously, but eventually complied "now just imagine you're fast, weightless, like nothing can stop you. Got it?"

Ingrid's mouth was twisted in a small grimace, but she nodded.

"Now go."

She didn't flit. Ingrid _did_ manage to turn herself into a bat, however, which was... close enough, he supposed. Quick and agile, and a vampire power. She seemed quite shocked to suddenly have wings, and managed to figure out how to fly well enough to attack Vlad with several high pitched shrieks before she landed back on the ground, human-shaped and irritated.

"You drew blood!"

"You turned me into a bat!"

Vlad rolled his eyes, wiping drops of blood off his face.

"You just got mixed up. Try again. It's easy, you just need to focus. Pick a spot at the bottom of the hill, and picture yourself already there when you move."

 _Finally,_ Ingrid managed it. Up and down the hill she zipped, back and forth, finally coming to a slightly ungainly stop next to Vlad again.

"I did it!" Ingrid cleared her throat and side eyed Vlad, tone changing to haughty again "I mean... of course I did it."

He didn't call her on her more excited outburst at the start. Ingrid wouldn't appreciate it, and Vlad could smile to himself about it later.

"You did it. Want to carry on with that or not?"

"What else could I do?"

Vlad tapped his fingers against his leg, thinking.

"Done bat, done speed. We shouldn't do fire until dad gets back cus he can put them out easier. You could try and turn into smoke."

"And how do I do _that?_ "

Vlad shrugged.

"Don't look at me, you're the vampire. You have to sort of... detach yourself. It's a good way to almost be completely invisible without hiding in a wall, cus if you're in a room where there's dust you'll blend in."

"Hiding in a... never mind. I'm not doing that now. What if I get stuck that way?"

"It's more likely you'd manage and then the magic holding you like it would fail, and you would drop back on the ground feeling like all your limbs fell off. At least, that's how dad described it."

Shaking her head again, Ingrid looked around them, the dusty crumbling walls and the not-very-clear sky, the hearse parked nearby and the grass that had somehow not yet died from proximity to vampires.

"I'm hungry."

"You will be."

"No, I mean... for food. Not thirsty."

Vlad cocked his head. Sure, vampires ate, but generally what they ate also contained blood. Maybe it was remnants of her human half, making her want 'normal' food?

"Alright. There's probably some cake left. Your tastebuds will have changed, but some vampires like sweet. We can go try a few things, see if you've kept any favourites."

As they were about to head in, Ingrid glanced up at the tower, thoughts flickering across her face.

"Am I gonna sleep in a coffin now?"

"Up to you. You have a room in the basement, where there's no windows. You can sleep in the empty crypt, if that's your thing."

She hummed as they walked, and Vlad felt like he needed to add on.

"You can carry on sleeping in my room if you _want,_ but you'll have to be careful not to like, click your fingers and open the window during the day, and I'll still have to get up to go to school and stuff."

"Click my fingers?"

"Yeah. Try it."

Ingrid lifted her hand with some trepidation, but when she snapped her fingers the nearest door flew open. Vlad had her focus on one of the empty wall torches, and another snap had it burning merrily, the following one extinguishing it.

"Huh. Cool."

They spent the next hour and a half in the kitchen, Ingrid experimenting with various foods and drinks to see what she liked now. The cake was still a hit, though she complained it was too sickly to eat too much of. Anything salty went down well, and all meats had survived the process to still be enjoyable.

"You can eat meat raw now. You can't get food poisoning like a breather. It'll taste different, but if you're really hungry, go for it."

Seeming largely occupied with her current choice of cheese melted on top of a barely-cooked strip of bacon, Ingrid stopped rather suddenly.

"Are there books on vampire lore?"

"You want to study vampire stories?"

She rolled her eyes and tsked in Vlad's direction.

"Not lore, _law._ "

"Oh. Yeah, we've gone through a few looking for Dimidius laws before. Why? You're not usually one for rules."

Ingrid shrugged, wiping her mouth on a black napkin and discarding the greasy paper.

"Well, given how many times you mentioned execution as a punishment for breaking various codes the last few weeks, I figured I should at least know what rules I should be pretending to follow. And I'll need something to do other than ignore Count Dracula and sleep when you go back to that cesspool of hormones."

"Alright. I'll find some out for you."

Ingrid nodded, turning back to her assortment of foodstuffs. Vlad was pretty sure Ingrid wasn't telling him everything. Then again, that was pretty normal for her.

-YD-

 **Well, we're approaching the coronation soon. There's absolutely no way that can go wrong, right? *whistles***


	32. Chapter 32

**Wow, ok, so I've had a hectic couple of months facing near homelessness and moving house and Brexit and... yeah. It's been rough. But I never forget my OTP! And I binged the first two seasons yesterday so full of inspiration.  
**

-YD-

Something hit the back of his head, another landing over his shoulder on his desk. Vlad turned round, sighing.

"What?"

"I'm bored."

"What do you want me to do about it?"

Ingrid shrugged, then flicked another peanut at him. She wasn't even eating them, just using them for ammunition while Vlad did his schoolwork. He'd gotten a bunch of books out on vampire law, like she'd asked, but she didn't seem interested in actually doing anything with them just then.

"When is this coronation thing happening again?"

"Uh, four nights from now. So long as you don't stake anyone or mention you are half breather, it'll be fine. You will have to wear a cape though."

"Seriously?"

"Respectable attire for the coronation. I'll have to wear one too, which I'm not thrilled about either."

She cocked her head.

"Why?"

"Because Dracula cloaks have huge collars, and I have a small head. I look ridiculous, basically."

He gestured to the cape slung over the wardrobe door, complete with ridiculously high collar. Ingrid actually snickered at it.

"I don't even own a cape."

"Stand up?"

Ingrid raised an eyebrow, but complied, watching him warily as Vlad stood next to her for comparison before nodding to himself.

"My mum left some behind, she's not much taller than you and floor trains are in fashion again this century. Want me to show you so you can go through her clothes and I can do my homework in peace?"

That seemed to appease Ingrid, who followed Vlad to the attic, where one of the paintings of Magda resided under a half-fallen dust sheet next to several of her old trunks.

"That's her I take it?"

"Yep. Magda Westenra."

"Not Dracula?"

"Nope. Never married my dad officially. But she left us for a werewolf, so... go nuts, take whatever you want. She buys more clothes than even immortal people can wear and Lucifer only knows when she'll be back here."

Ingrid frowned.

"Then why is it all kept?"

"Cus dad sort of loves her as much as he hates her, and sort of hopes she'll come back to him even though they make each other miserable and/or murderous. And if she did, she'd stake him for throwing everything out. But seriously, have at it. Gotta look the part for the Coronation, right?"

Vlad left her to it - there were several chests, all packed with various designer vamp wear. Ingrid was likely to be too short for some of the things, but Vlad had little doubt she'd find something in there. He returned to his homework no longer being pelted with peanuts, and actually got it finished before any sign of Ingrid's return. The attic was void of her too, Vlad eventually locating her all the way down in her basement room, trying on outfits.

"Is this on right?"

She gestured to her cape. Vlad eyed it, nodding.

"Uh, almost. Here, the clasp can be fiddly."

He tried to ignore the gentle but pervasive scent of her perfume when standing so close, the cool skin of her throat brushing his knuckles as he twisted the clasp until it was locked in place properly.

"There."

 _Hellfire,_ Ingrid looked the part. The colour of her underbust corset was a deep purple, matching the lining of her cape and the dusting of makeup over her eyes. She'd probably have to wear her hair up to not get it caught in the clasp, which would only expose more of the pale, graceful arch of her neck. The high collar that looked ridiculous on Vlad highlighted Ingrid's cheekbones perfectly.

"Well, you'll definitely _look_ like all biter for the Coronation."

"I'm assuming that's meant to be a compliment."

"Depends if you want to look like a vampire. It'd be an insult to me, but I hate being a vampire."

Ingrid already seemed to be taking to it better than Vlad expected he would in the future. He was still waiting for the rampant bloodlust to kick in, but so far Ingrid seemed remarkably in control, or perhaps her urges were muted because of her half-human side. There wasn't a lot on Dimidius transformation, and even less information on them long-term - they never lasted that long. Technically, the punishment for _being_ a Dimidius was banishment, but they always seemed to mysteriously die...

Maybe if she stuck around Castle Dracula long enough, Vlad could take notes on Ingrid. They might come in handy in the future...

His brain hurt every time he thought about _that._ With the Coronation terrifyingly close, Vlad was worried the whole _Chosen One_ thing was going to come out, and he didn't want it to. He didn't want to be any vampire, let alone a special one. And yet, his heart thrummed with a deep, painful certainty that it was all _true,_ that whether he liked it or not, his future was coming to claim him.

"Do all vampires wear suits, or is your dad just dramatic?"

"Depends. Some wear military gear, because they've lived long enough to serve in several wars. Some just wear sunproof leather, and some are more casual, although generally it's all still in black. Most _will_ be wearing suits for the coronation though, because it's the fashion of the century still. We're more... black, black and a splash of one colour. My only waistcoat is red, but it matches the lining of my cape."

Given the blatant distaste Ingrid (and their father) had for Vlad's usual wardrobe, a chat about fashion was definitely weird to be having with Ingrid, but if she had questions he could answer, he was hardly going to refuse her.

"And let me guess, women all wear dresses?"

"Yeah... girl power is a slow process in the vampire world. Most of our population was alive when women were still seen as objects, not people. Most vampiresses don't stand for that nowadays, but anyone who's been married over three hundred years and isn't the oldest surviving member of her clan tends to follow that whole 'lower than men' line of thought."

 _I can change that._

The thought rose, nudging Vlad with the reminder he'd be Grand High Vampire some day if he claimed his place. Maybe that was why the evil powers that be chose him - both because they'd be getting a kick out of watching him suffer vampirism resentfully, but also because if he did, Vlad knew he'd _do_ something with that power.

If he took his place, he could change the vampire world.

-YD-

 **I won't promise to be reliable, cus... I'm not, but I do promise to do my best!**


	33. Chapter 33

**I accidentally fell deep in to the Doctor Who fandom, and now I'm trying to resist the urge to dive in to writing loads of fics for it cus I have _so_ much left to do already.**

 **Like this.**

-YD-

Sighing dramatically, Vlad stared at his suit and cape, hanging up and waiting. Ingrid had left him alone so he could shower, hair scrubbed dry with a towel and combed out. The Coronation was only an hour away, so he had to finish getting ready before the sun went down and those who had travelled from all over arrived in expectation of appointing a new Grand High Vampire.

As he stepped in to his trousers, noting they were a little loose as he'd lost some of the puppy fat around his middle over the last few months, Vlad reflected on the dreams, his inner knowledge of the Chosen One thing. It was, oddly, a little easier to acknowledge himself as such a thing when he was dressed, the outfit making him look at least vaguely like a member of the great, historical clan of Dracula. He laced his boots, then reluctantly grabbed hold of his cape and fastened it. After checking his belt was tightened enough to hold up loose trousers, Vlad patted down his damp hair and cajoled himself in to heading down from the tower, entering the main room of the castle.

Ingrid looked stunned to see him, probably because it was so scarce he wore something black.

"You don't even look like the same person."

"That's probably intentional. I don't _enjoy_ looking like this."

Her fangs were visible. Vlad tried to ignore a spark of heat that spread across his skin, the instinct still within him to offer his throat to her - regardless of the fact she was his _sister_ \- and feel her bite him, mark him, _claim_ him...

Clearing his throat, Vlad tried to ignore the Count fussing over him, going on about how he looked _so_ much like a Dracula now, that he was going to throw out all Vlad's colourful clothes so he _had_ to wear "this sort of thing more". Vlad glared.

"If you do, the first thing I will do when I turn sixteen is cram an entire garlic bread in my mouth and explode all over your coffin."

Scowling, his father stalked off to preen himself about hosting the Coronation again, shouting at Renfield to tidy this and put more dust on that, to haul up crates of vintage blood. There was a fancy cushion to rest the Crown of Power upon. Ingrid somehow managed to move closer to him without really looking at him or giving away any indication she wanted to be nearer to him.

"What's actually going to happen?"

"Everyone will arrive. Depending on who turns up, there might be a drink first. Then we basically all line up and dad uses the Bloodline Parchment, which will select the new Grand High Vampire. Obviously, you could do that right away as soon as the investigation in to the slaying of the previous Grand High Vampire was over, but vampires like to pass the endless years of immortality with making an event out of everything."

Ingrid wrinkled her nose, confused.

"The what parchment?"

"Oh. It's this kind of magic paper that knows all the vampire bloodlines. Nobody is entirely sure how. Anyone who worked on it was slain so seems the secrets are lost. You drop a bit of blood on, and it chooses someone. They try the Crown on. If the Crown accepts them, you'll know, and thats our new Grand High Vampire."

Vlad tried to ignore the sweat prickling on the back of his neck, absolutely _petrified_ that his name would come up.

"Has there ever been one of these where someone immediately assassinated the new one?"

"Once, but generally, there's a huge amount of respect and deferrence to the old magic involved. Plus, it's not called the Crown of _Power_ for nothing. It does give you a boost, to help you reign. Honestly, we don't have to do a lot other than look like vampires and try not to embarrass dad."

"That doesn't sound fun."

The Count growled. Vlad snorted. Ingrid smirked.

"Yeah, well, we're not meant to have fun. Plus, the better behaved you are, the sooner it's over."

She hummed.

"That _does_ sound like a plus."

Chuckling, Vlad made the most of no other vampires being present to get a normal, non-blood-based drink. The fact his teenaged, untransformed body couldn't really _digest_ blood yet did not seem to matter to most vampires, who were by then so old they had forgotten about the early years of their unlives.

Ingrid was quite content to sip elegantly at a goblet of someone dark and thick, the scent potent enough that Vlad could smell it from several feet away. He wasn't terribly surprised to find Ingrid had high-end taste in blood. She was high-maintenance like that.

Loathe as he was for the event itself, Vlad wished it would hurry up and get dark out so the whole thing could be _over._ With any luck, his Chosen One dreams had just been a series of vivid hallucinations, a new Grand High Vampire would be picked, and they could all go on with eternity with nobody any the wiser. The sun finally sank in the sky, and it wasn't much longer before the screeching sound of bats swarming through the air could be heard. Renfield had to endure the labour-intensive task of inviting them in one by one, then rushing in to offer them all drinks.

In his element as the chosen host, the Count swanned amongst them, bigging himself up about the entire affair to anyone who would listen, and several who wouldn't. Vlad stayed close to Ingrid, just in case anyone started asking questions about the Count's surprise second child. Thankfully, most were too distracted by the impending coronation to do more than make the occasional creepy, leering comment at Ingrid, who simply scowled and ignored them, smirking in to her glass whenever one was caught and swatted by a nearby wife.

"Blood brothers and sisters, it is time!"

Everyone rushed to line up, the order of the two lines dictated first by political power, then by age of clan. Which were often the same thing. Vlad and Ingrid got to be pretty close to the front by dint of being part of the clan of the host. As they were shuffled close together, Ingrid couldn't exactly miss how tense Vlad was growing with each passing second, watching as the Crown was carried down between the lines, as the Count prepared to let the blood make the choice.

 _Please don't say my name. Please don't say my name._

His heart was pounding so hard he was amazed nobody noticed. His dad shook the bottle, before letting a single drop fall on to the parchment.

"Chieftain MacDonald."

Vlad sagged with absolute relief, though nobody noticed as there was a faint, disdainful groan shared by most. The MacDonald clan were known as rather eccentric weirdos, living in the depths of Scotland mostly hunting animals. Nobody really liked them. The Chief stepped down to the front, kneeling down to receive his Crown.

"Do you solemnly swear to be evil, bloodthirsty and cruel, now and forevermore?"

He saw his dad roll his eyes, completely disillusioned of glamour and excitement already.

"Aye, I do."

MacDonald confirmed, and he didn't even take off his tartan cap before the Crown was lowered down. There was a strange hum in the air right before the vampire went to pieces, rather literally. He crumbled to dust before all of them, and there were gasps of shock.

"It's the prophecy!"

Ingrid leant in.

"What prophecy?"

"Old vampire nonsense" he lied "when the bloodlines start dropping, it's a sign of some special vampire coming."

He was standing right there. Ingrid scoffed lightly, and the Count shook it off as Renfield swept up the dust pile.

"Let's see if we choose someone less... _combustible_ this time."

A shaky chuckle ran through the room, and another splash of blood landed down on the parchment. The Count blinked, leaning forward and tapping the parchment as though it would change, rubbing his eyes and staring for a good minute or two.

"Well?"

Someone prompted, bored of waiting. The Count lifted his head, eyes wide and surprised as he looked toward his son.

"Vladimir Dracula."

-YD-

 **Dun dun dunnnn.**


	34. Chapter 34

**Despite my introverted nature, I'm actually taking a serious hit to my mental health because of the current situation with covid-19 as it has caused major disruptions to my usual routines, and my perception of time is completely ruined as a result. So what I'm saying is... I'm sorry, I didn't realise it had been a whole month.**

 **But hey, a full five season binge is next on my list for quarantine viewing.**

-YD-

Mutters and mumbles ran up and down the lines before everyone turned to Vlad.

A few vampires actually _laughed._ His father looked flabbergasted, the expression on his face utterly dumbfounded.

"You must be joking!"

"He's a child!"

"And not much of a vampire, from what I've heard."

Vlad rolled his eyes, trying to quash the rampaging bats in his belly. He wasn't sure what to do; if he went up there, he was going to be outed as the Chosen One when the Crown of Power didn't turn him to dust. And there was no precedent for what happened to a pre-transformation vampire putting on the Crown; what if it forced his transformation?

That was assuming he wasn't just staked on the spot by someone seeking to take the mantle of Grand High Vampire for their own.

He didn't want the damned Crown or title anyway!

But he had no choice; the Parchment had chosen him, and if he abdicated, that was permanent. He'd have to win the Crown again. _Not appealing._

"Vlad?"

His dad called his name, still looking stunned. Vlad drew in a deep breath, and made to step forward. He felt Ingrid's fingers wrap around the back of his arm, holding him in place. He looked up at her, and if Vlad didn't know better, he'd say she looked _worried_ for him.

"I can't ignore the Parchment any more than the rest of you can."

He tried to give Ingrid a reassuring look; she didn't know who he was, none of them did. They were about to find out though.

"I refuse to bow to a child!"

Vlad closed his eyes and turned around, drawing in a few more breaths to steady himself, chose his words carefully. Words had power; he had to be smart.

"If you choose to defy what the Parchment says, be my guest."

He couldn't _offer_ the Crown, but he could goad someone in to jumping the gun. Count Yates scowled, and stepped forward, tongue running over his short, poorly maintained fangs.

"Oh I will."

Vlad stepped to the side, gestured for the other vampire to go ahead. When Yates was stood in front of Count Dracula, Vlad nodded at his father over Yates' shoulder.

"Very well."

The Crown had barely touched his unkempt hair when he crumbled to the ground. Privately, Vlad thought the vampires wife looked _relieved,_ but he wasn't about to bring that up as gasps ran through the room again.

"Anyone else feel like playing russian roulette, or can I go up there now?"

Thankfully, Dracula sarcasm was a genetic trait. After a minute, nobody had moved other than Renfield, to scoop up the remains and throw them away ineffectively. Heart pounding in his chest, Vlad walked over and looked up at his dad. The Count looked panicked by then. Vlad could joke that his dad was afraid of having a son that outranked him, and that would undoubtedly come later... but right now, his dad clearly expected Vlad to disintegrate there and then.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Just do it."

He hoped he wasn't going to be asked to promise to be bloodthirsty and cruel. That wasn't Vlad. Still in shock, his father didn't even ask. Just held the Crown out with shaking hands, not even _looking_ as he slowly laid it on Vlad's head.

Vlad knew the second it touched him, felt the instant connection between his vampire side and the old magic that coursed through the Crown. He rose from his bowed position, felt the tingles of power run through him, from the top of his head to the tips of his fingers and toes.

He felt _something_ wake up inside him, thrumming in the back of his mind but not rushing to the forefront yet. Vlad turned to face the crowd, tipping his head from side to side until his neck cracked, loosening his posture. He felt more... relaxed than he'd expected.

"Is this how you stand before your new Grand High Vampire?"

A ripple of uncertainty first, and then several of the vampires dropped in to the correct stance of deference, bowed knees and bowed heads, though some held out until Vlad turned his gaze on them directly. Only Ingrid stayed standing, surveying him rather strangely. Vlad gestured for her to join him, not trusting any of the vampires there with her safety.

"A question, Your Grandness?"

Countess LeCushka, known for her regular murders of her own family and seducing the husbands of others, had raised her head and fixed Vlad with a curious look. He didn't like the calculating edge.

"Yes?"

"How are you to lead? You're not yet transformed. I hardly think you can even commute to Transylvania from... _Stokely."_

She said it with derision, clearly disapproving of the little Welsh town.

Vlad tried to focus the power still rolling through him, hoping it worked and feeling more relieved than he _ever_ expected to when he transformed in to a bat there and then. The Crown went with him, thankfully, and he didn't fall flat on his ass when he landed on human legs again.

"You were saying?"

"How..."

Honestly, he had no idea, but he wasn't going to let on to anyone else about that.

"What did you expect from the Chosen One?"

More dramatic gasping. Vampires were a little _too_ dramatic sometimes.

"You?"

"Well, the Crown deemed two before me as undeserving, and the Parchment chose me. If the prophecies are true, then... I'll let you make your own conclusions. For now, you can leave. The Coronation is over, and this is too many vampires in my home."

Several looked ready to argue, but they had no leeway, especially when none of the high ranking members of the Vampire High Council were in attendance. Something of an oversight, but they'd be along within two sundowns, Vlad was certain. Once the castle was cleared, Vlad sagged with relief and dropped heavily in to a chair, plucking the Crown from his head and dropping it on the table. The power didn't leave him entirely, but he felt a little... empty without it.

Ingrid was still staring at him, but before he could ask, his father was standing in front of him, eyes wide.

"What the blood and garlic was that!?"

-YD-

 **Stay safe out there guys!**


End file.
